The Irrelevant Skyrim Experience
by longherin
Summary: Two guys play Skyrim in first person mode. And also there's a dragonborn involved, but she does her own thing. Think of it as Skyrim, but not as railroaded due to videogame limitations.
1. The Opening Sequence Experience

[An overview on convention]

Normal text, unless specified by something like a camera shift, is first person, inner person description. Its coherence is dependent on the mental state of the 'person' in question.

 _Italic text is for 4th wall commentary, inter-person commentary (because I talk to myself) and for information that are picked up by the senses that a normal person would pick up but never really pay attention to._

Now then, onto the show!

{ === + === }

It's snowing, the ground is moving, everything's shaking, I'm cold, and I ache all over.

Am I missing a kidney?

Where am I?

It's dark.

 _Why is that, I wonder._

Things tend to be dark when your eyes are closed.

 _We open our eyes._

…Huh.

I can see the clear, blue sky, with wisps of white, fluffy clouds…and snow-covered pine trees…and a wagon…and dudes…

…oh dear.

Also, a friend!

"Hey, Jake." Oh wow I sound tired.

I'm a bit of a weedy fellow, whose way more interested in sitting in front of a computer all day, every day, forever and ever. Jake's more balanced in the sense that he actually does normal people stuff like exercise.

Though if I'm guessing right we're both going to do way more exercising in the foreseeable future.

"Hey, Ash." Jake's reply sounds about as tired as mine. "Do you see where we are right now?"

"I can see we're in a cart." I reply. I also see people wearing quilted armor with blue sashes on them. "And that we're in the company of some Stormcloaks."

"Ah shit." Jake gets it. "So we're in Skyrim now?"

I breathe in deep, and then immediately cough due to the crisp, cold air. It's delicious, but my lungs are too lazy to do their job right.

 _What a weird description._

"How do you think we got here?" He asks after looking around.

I also look around.

We're basically in Skyrim's opening scene, sitting in carts being driven by Imperials towards what is most likely Helgen. A variance is that there are more carts than the game shows (in our case, ten carts total) and that there is an escort of Imperial horsemen, armed with spears.

"You two aren't from around here, are you?" A nearby Stormcloak, a woman, by the sounds of it, asks us. "They're willing to capture anyone associated with us, it seems." She answers her own question.

…I am now noticing a stunning lack of a horse thief or a man with the cloak of all cloaks.

"Yo." I nudge Jake on the shoulder. "Where's the big guy with the cloak?" I ask. My eyes aren't so good and I don't have my glasses.

"Uh…" Jake looks around. I now remember that his eyes aren't that good either, except he wears contacts and I wear normal glasses. "Over there on your left, three carts down." He says.

Lessee…oh, I think my visions about the same as when I wear my glasses…so, in other words, clear sight for around twenty feet.

Anyways, three carts down…so the second cart from the front?

There are six people on that cart, going by the blond hair, one of them is probably Ralof. Big cloak man is likely Ulfric, and…

Oh, that's a pretty looking girl. Probably. I can't see from here. I'm making the judgment call because I can see a blurry shape that's almost radiant with snow-white hair and likely impressively perfect complexion, and it radiates a prettiness that's impossible to achieve without decent photoshop and or airbrushing.

 _What?_

Erm. In any event. I nudge Jake again. "You see that?"

"Hell yeah." Jake smirks. "I'm willing to bet money that's the dergenbern."

 _Our brain has a mental fault before it catches up._

He's calling her the Dragonborn by using the dumbest coded talk possible.

Oh well. Play along. "Yeah, probably." I agree. "If I'm reading my genres right, there's like a 1000 percent chance we'll be travelling with her."

"Oh shit." Jake agrees with a small laugh. "Bro code right now, no banging the heroic albino."

Yeah…she's probably gonna be heroically albino, isn't she. "Done."

 _Watch her be a he._

That would just be real fuckin' neato.

 _The woman Stormcloak riding with us go "you two are strangely happy about being put to death." Which kind of sours the mood a little._

Also, I'm a little surprised that neither of us are freaking the fuck out.

…in retrospect, should we be? I mean, humans are still humans, snow is still snow, pine is still pine…yeah, Stormcloaks look weird, but…

 _Unseen to us, Jake's eyes are darting about every which way while his physical shape is seemingly as relaxed as he could be under the circumstances._

…mmm…still, even if I could freak, doing it now is probably not the best idea.

…

We sit in silence, listening to the imperial escorts talk serious shit about the Stormcloaks, until we reach the open gates of Helgen.

"Ooooh shit." Jake and I breathe at the same time.

Maybe it's because we kind of realized that we're both about to get our heads chopped or, or maybe we realized that Alduin's about to murder the fuck out of all of us…

…Or maybe the scale of Helgen has just thrown us for a loop.

In game, all cities are small to save space. Helgen is…not small. I mean, I'm looking at what is probably a town as large as the local terrain and food availability allows, and going by the amount of structures present we're looking at a community of at least two thousand people.

 _We're assuming based on the amount of houses we saw on our way down._

Yeah, the trail leading into Helgen slopes downwards and gives a good vantage of the town, at least in terms of estimating its size based on roof count. I think I saw a few hundred roofs at the very least, nevermind the keep, so Helgen is…

Well, it's gonna be dead as shit, but it's gonna be huge and dead as shit.

 _While we're busy marveling at Helgen and how dead we're gonna be, the train of Stormcloak prisoners enter the town through the main thoroughfare in somber parade. As we pass through…_

I see this part. We pass…uh…what's his face. General Tullius. He doesn't care for any of us, but his gaze was definitely held by the wagon containing the Ulfric and the Dragonborn.

 _"A girl like that deserves a better end than this." Tullius mutters upon seeing the Dragonborn, but obviously we don't hear it._

I see him shake his head, so he's…feeling something about something. I can't read minds.

"Dude, we might actually just straight up die here." Jake notes…he mentions this because we're pulling up to the execution grounds…basically a glorified barren field in front of a stone tower, as expected.

I'm getting a little scared here, not gonna lie.

 _The carts come to a stop._

"Off the carts!" One Imperial Soldier yells, so we get off the carts.

"This is it." Stormcloak Soldier A (the lady from before) mutters. "Steel yourselves."

 _We're made to line up and get ticked off._

To my left, I can see Ralof and who is probably Hadvar exchange deathglares…and of course, the Dragonborn and the two of us are unregistered.

 _We are told to step forwards…_

OH MY GOD

 _And a massive screen of text flashes in front of our eyes._

Going by Jake's wince, it happened to him too. Ow. The fuck.

"No lollygaggin'." The Imperial in charge of us snaps, and sends us forward with a kick to the shins.

We line up, and watch…and wait…

…and wait…

 _The horse thief makes his "you can't do this!" dash for freedom._

Instead of being kinda sorta shot in the back he gets run down by cavalry. Does that count as irony?

 _The priest of Mara makes her speech._

Still waiting…

…ok we're no longer waiting

 _Above us, a roar reverberates through the sky._

To the Imperial's credit (especially the Dumbass Imperial Captain's credit) the soldiers are immediately scanning the skies. Bow-armed Imperials come out, too…but nobody sees anything.

"We're not gonna see like, Thomas the Tank Engine come out of the sky, right?" Jake mutters as a means of lightening the mood.

I nod. "That would be amazing."

Sadly, it's not that amazing.

The bony, massive form of Alduin slams onto the stone tower and oh god that's fire

 _The Stormcloaks and Imperials scatter the fuck away as Alduin begins burning shit to the ground._

Fun fact: this be real life. The cobblestone path beneath our feet is melting under the effect of the breath attack and I can feel the fire coming into my lungs and it hurts like holy shit

 _Reality: the fire is melting the snow into water which is not doing favors to our traction. Plus it's hot, so as far as we're concerned the stones are melting._

I like my cold air back please

 _Some Stormcloaks cut us loose._

"Let's go!" Jake grabs my collar and yanks, and we get under way.

By which I mean, without any idea of where we're going (since the map of this place is so different from the game) we stumble around towards the Keep, the tallest building in town.

Alduin is still burning down the town around us, people are crying, shit is dying…it's just a horrible time.

 _Understatement of the year._

We arrive at the front of the Keep…and meet up with Hadvar and Ralof, and the Dragonborn.

Of course they dislike each other because civil war, and…huh. Looks like the girl's going with Hadvar.

I tap Jake's shoulder. "Which way are you going?"

"Ralof." Jake says immediately. "Meet up in the keep later?"

"Yeah."

 _We go with Hadvar._

…

The inside of the Keep is…uh, not that silent.

This is the real world, or something, so the world outside the wooden doors still exists rather than get offloaded to save memory.

 _Now that we have a moment to breathe…_

Hadvar looks a little worse for the wear. His armor is singed in multiple places and he might have sprinted face-first into a wall of coal dust. He looks healthy otherwise, though.

The Dragonborn…is wearing Prisoner Rags, looks a little frazzled, but seems to be otherwise ok. You'd think that with the standout way she looked Alduin would have homed in on her.

 _Maybe he outsmarted himself. Like: no way the Dragonborn is as obvious as this._

Maybe.

Either way, now that he has the time, Hadvar takes a moment to collect himself, wipes his face with a rag, and then addresses us. "Look around and find yourselves some armor." He says then gestures to a weapons rack on the wall. "And get those swords, too."

'k.

 _We get ourselves moving._

While we're doing that…

 _Wow,_ our Dragonborn spends time on her appearance. She legit looks modded in. Shiny, snow white hair that goes down to her shoulders, skin so fair she'll probably blind someone if she goes naked, and…slight heterochromia?

 _Protagonist qualities: check, check, aaand check._

It's like green and blue-green, so only a half-check on that. I'm gonna bet she's a natural at combat, too.

In any case, we kind of stare at each other awkwardly.

"Here's a suit." Hadvar finds some Imperial Light Armor in the Warden's Chest and…kind of stops, because there are two of us and he only has one of those.

 _Side note: the armor looks like it fits both of us, except the front part might be tight for the girl._

She's very well endowed for how light-looking she is. "You'll need it more than me, probably." I say to our Dragonborn.

She kind of nods and then moves to Hadvar, who straps the armor onto her with an extremely uncomfortable look on his face. Might be because she bounced the whole way?

…how did she even get here without hurting herself? Large breasts tend to hurt during physical exercises when there's no bra around, right? And like she had to run the whole way here or be eaten by Alduin.

 _You do realize you're terrible at estimating bust sizes, right? You have literally never seen a woman naked in your presence._

Yeah, but if she's bouncing like someone broke a physics slider then I think she's probably on the larger side of things.

 _Stop exaggerating._

Can't help it.

"What are you smirking at?" Hadvar snaps at us, redfaced.

We have a poorly restrained shit-eating grin on our face while trying to judge the lady's bust size, and we're facing Hadvar, hence his discomfort. He's trying so hard to avoid inappropriate touching while finishing his work on her armor, which is also adorable and is contributing to our grin.

 _You would be getting right in there with no fear of an ass-kicking, huh?_

Shush. "Oh no, nothing at all." I reply as innocently as I can manage and pick a sword from the racks on the wall.

Honest talk time: I'm not good at this shit and I don't start with Healing and Flames, so…yeah. This is gonna be rough. I have a little experience with heftier, two-handed swords, but it's far and away not enough to count in an actual fight.

 _With her armor equipped (if a little tight), the Dragonborn takes a sword from the wall as well._

She gives it a few test swings, and it looks like she at least has some handling experience when it comes to weapons. Figures.

 _Protagonist check!_

Shush.

"Alright?" Hadvar asks after we give the swords some more swings. We nod. "Let's go then." He moves to the door leading deeper into the Keep.

 _While we're doing this, the noise outside has gradually lessened._

He opens the door and we head into the…well, a narrow, dimly lit hallway.

 _Per the game, we make a right turn and run almost instantly into a small group of Stormcloaks._

They're gathered in the…mustering area? It's the large round room without much furniture, just a small table pushed against the wall facing the main entrance (we're coming in through the iron bar side door). Either way, we avoid just barging in and hide.

"Alright, let's see if we can reason with them." Hadvar whispers, and then shows himself to the trio of soldiers who immediately draw weapons. "Now hold on there," he says soothingly. "We don't want any trouble, we just want to get out of here."

"Bullshit." Stormcloak Soldier A spat and advances with his axe.

"It was worth a shot." Hadvar sighs and draws his sword.

He then singlehandedly guts the three soldiers because none of them had anything resembling tactical foresight. Also Hadvar's really damn good with his sword.

I guess they were the stragglers in Ulfric's forces? Or else the unit he was captured with was not his personal bodyguards?

Either way, Hadvar fucks 'em over good and we proceed onwards.

 _We follow him silently until we hit the collapsed walkway._

Keep in mind we can feel the keep constantly shake above us, and dirt and rubble is constantly trickling down from the ceiling. It's…rough on the nerves, I'll say that much. I've never been the type to enjoy enclosed spaces with the possibility of no escape and this isn't exactly warming me up to the idea.

We continue for a bit until the ceiling collapses in the hallway.

Unlike the game where you just get a camera shake effect…the collapse knocks all of us on our asses and fill the air with choking dust.

Also FUCK ITS LOUD my ears are ringing.

 _For like the third time in an hour we cough our lungs out._

Oh lordy my ears

 _We get our hearing back after a minute._

Hadvar's the first to get back to his feet. "Good god." He spits out the rest of the dust in his mouth. "I'm glad it didn't come down on top of us. Are you two alright?"

"Yes." Dragonborn breathes…she has a very pretty voice too. As expected?

 _She's one special talent away from being a Mary Sue._

Being a Dragonborn doesn't count?

"I'll live." I get to my feet.

"Let's go through here. Not like we have much of a choice." Hadvar gestures to the door to the pantry/potion tutorial room.

So we do, and loot four healing pots. Also a roasted rabbit haunch. Never had rabbit before. Not sure how I feel about it.

 _Weird how you can eat at a time like this._

I can stress eat.

"Here." I give a potion to Hadvar. "You're going to need it more than us."

"Thank you." He says with a little bit of confusion, maybe because I have rabbit?

Also it's gone really fast. The rabbit haunch…I guess I was hungrier than I thought. Also it was tiny.

So anyways, healing pots. Hadvar has one, I have one, and Dovakiin has two. We then leave the room and come across…oh, that's unpleasant.

We come across the trio of Stormcloaks that would have entered the potions room, except the collapse was a little more…back, than expected, so they've been knocked the fuck out. Also the rubble makes getting out a little tougher.

So we clamber over the debris, and Hadvar performs three coup de graces without even blinking I mean what the hell man

 _We're a little too rattled by the suddenness to do anything other than just kind of stare at Hadvar. Hadvar doesn't catch our eyesight, so we get no response._

He cleans his sword like nothing just happened and…well, I guess I can understand. Half civil war duties and half mercy kill.

Also. "Hi, what's your name?" I ask our Dovakiin. If it ends up being longer than eight letters I swear to god

 _Meta-laziness._

"Aria." She replies softly. Boring…but easier to, uh, transcribe.

"Ash." In lieu of having a free hand to shake, I just wave. "Hi."

 _Like a fucking loser™._

Shush.

We keep going…and then hear talking. This is the dungeon/torture area, I think.

"Get that door open, he might have something we can use." I hear a voice that sounds like Ralof. So we caught up…and they got here before we did.

"Ralof." Hadvar's growl is quite aggressive. Deep bad blood between them, it seems. He draws his sword and advance towards the source of the voice.

 _We burst in to the scene!_

Ralof and one other Stormcloak are standing above the dead Imperial Torturer and his assistant. Jake is currently picking the lock to the jail cell containing the dead mage and his Shock spellbook.

 _Ralof sees us and says "Well, if it isn't Had-"_

"Dibs."

"Dude, you can't call dibs, I was here first!"

Whatever impending conflict was immediately sidetracked by me calling dibs on the Shock spellbook while Jake learns how to work a lockpick.

 _We stroll up to the jail cell like it's the most common thing to do._

And then we, with our ability to think outside the fucking box, shove the spell book with the hilt of our sword towards the cell wall and pluck it up all nice and easy like.

"Fuck you." Jake laughs. "I was about to get it open."

"I can thief better than you." I smirk. Now let's see here…

 _We flip open the book. Nothing happens._

So I'll need to read this in depth before I can actually learn to use UNLIMITED POWAH or some shit.

"Well, this is a bit of a dud." I sigh and…I now realize I have a carrying capacity of "one free hand" since I'm already holding onto a bottle.

This is why I cheat to give myself a carrying capacity of ten thousand in the game. Ugh.

"Looks like you didn't think this through." Jake laughs harder.

"Screw you too." I laugh in reply. "Help me push the dead guy to the side."

 _Everyone watch in surprise as we both push the dead mage to one side with our combination of Imperial Sword and Steel Axe._

The reason for doing this is so I can relieve him of his belt and pouch. I can use the belt to (kind of) bind the book to our waist and have it look really stupid, but at least I'll have a free hand.

 _We tie our rope belt around our dead guy belt so the book doesn't weigh our dead guy belt down to our ankles._

Would Skyrim be more fun if you actually had to worry about shit like this?

"Are you two friends?" Ralof asks conversationally, since we completely defused the situation.

"Best buddies." Jake replies as he goes into the torturer's office for its mace and shield.

"On different sides of the war?" Hadvar frowns.

"I don't know if you realized this, Hadvar, but there's a dragon in the sky." I say conversationally as I take the Iron knife sitting in the middle of the room. "I feel like worrying about politics when the World Eater has returned is a pretty stupid thing to do."

Both of them turn white.

"Alduin?" Ralof asks. "That dragon is Alduin? Why do you think that? How do you know that? Who are you?"

Given the circumstances it's easier to lie. "Dude it's burning down the town, as far as I care, it's Alduin until proven otherwise."

"So what are you going to do?" Hadvar asks me.

"Right now? I just want to get out of here." I stretch. "You ready, Jake?"

"Yeah." Jake's armed with ragged clothing, an Iron round shield, an Iron mace in his hand, and a sword at his waist. I'm also wearing ragged clothing too, I should mention. Hence the rope belt. "Let's get the fuck out."

"You're going to work together?" Ralof asks in slight disbelief.

"Yeah?" I make my best 'are you kidding?' face at him. "If you and Hadvar want to kill each other down here, be our guest. We're leaving."

Realistically though, we kind of need them. There are more dudes down the line and the two guys with next to no combat experience are _very likely_ going to be killed to hell and back if things get hairy. 'When' things get hairy.

"You two came from the same town, right?" Jake says to them.

They nod, a little warily.

"Then you should be settling your differences like men." He grins. "With lots of alcohol and arm wrestling."

"Either way, c'mon, Aria, we're going." Gotta keep the plot token with us for now, though.

"Um." She's not sure what's going on, and thus does not move from her supporting position behind Hadvar.

"Loudmouth has a point." Ralof sighs and sheathes his axe. "I don't want to die trying to kill someone from my own village. Sovngarde would look down upon brothers cutting down brothers."

Hadvar doesn't quite scoff, but he's certainly not as jazzed about that explanation (going by the eyeroll). Still, he sheathes his sword as well. "I'm not too keen on killing a man I've known all my life either. If Ralof is to die, I'd rather that he dies with honor, guarding some Stormcloak granary."

"And I hope you drown in a puddle." Ralof replies in a tone that…I'm going to read as best-friendly. Y'know, how best friends are kind of assholes to each other until shit goes down.

 _We share a smirk with Jake. Mission 1 success!_

…

Our group of six proceeds basically unharassed through the rest of the Keep, until we get to the rock tunnel part and reach the cave bear. There were no Stormcloaks or Imperial Soldiers fighting down here to cause more unnecessary dramatic tension. Thank fuck for that.

 _There's also no loot to be had._

Damn fuck for that. Is Fuck a god?

 _Pretty sure it can be._

Either way, cave bear's resting in the open, so we're hiding out to draw plans.

"We have enough people to kill the thing." The Stormcloak Extra draws his two-handed axe and charges right at the oh he's dead nevermind.

 _We are lying: Ralof put his hand on the man and restrained him._

So he's not dead.

"A cave bear is still a cave bear." Ralof mutters. "Don't underestimate it."

"That bear seems to be limping." Aria observes (she's good at this shit). "It's probably been in a fight not long ago."

The bear limps towards the spot illuminated by the sunlight coming into the cave/tunnel/dungeons, and then sits down to nap.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Hadvar breathes. "Come on, we can sneak past if we tread lightly."

So we try to tread lightly.

Fun fact about treading lightly: the ground isn't just a straight texture with no debris to make noise, and of the six of us…

Well, none of us have any real skill in terms of sneaking, so I daresay between our shuffling feet, our armor, and the occasional rings of metal on metal…the cave bear isn't interested in trying to kill us or we would be dead already. Or at least badly maimed.

Ultimately we sneak past with no real problems.

And then we meet the likely cause of the cave bear's lethargy.

 _Frost Spiders. Frostbite spiders. One of the two names is accurate._

"That explains the bear." Ralof hefts his axe. "Make yourselves useful!" He roars and jumps into the battle.

There are eight spiders. Because they are the size of dogs, they're not as scary as they would be if they were the size of our hands.

…well ok actually they're still quite fucking terrifying but it's not as

 _While we're rambling in our head, everyone except us has already thrown themselves onto the spiders._

Ok yeah I should earn my keep. LEEROY

 _We dash towards the spider closest to us and kick it like it was a football. World Football, not American Handegg._

MMMJENKINS!

 _Our foot connects with the spider's underbelly (it's facing away from us)._

Ow that shit is actually quite hard

The spider takes the kick and falls back about a foot, but it's still viable and alive. It's also pissed and is turning towards us as a result of the hit.

So while it's getting its bearings we rush it, draw, and plunge the sword into its eyes.

I like lunging. It requires little training beyond "aim the fucking weapon".

The rest of them dispatch the spiders with no problem. I wish I knew how to loot spiders. I wish spiders just turned into a container holding one vial of perfectly bottled poison the instant it died.

Either way, we follow them out the last leg of the tutorial dungeon.

 _And the wall of text comes again._

Ugh.

 _We, along with Jake, fall to our knees as we emerge from the dark cave into blinding sunlight._

"It's not that bad." Hadvar jokes.

Ugh…so that's what that was.

"Did you see that?" Jake asks with a wince.

"Yeah, I did." I also know what I did, too… "What did you pick?"

The thing that just flashed before our eye—the giant screen of text—was effectively a perk chart…though given the size of the text the chart is huge and impossible. And without really realizing it, I had picked a perk.

"Great Weapons Master." Jake says.

 _Great Weapons Master gives double gains on Health and weapon skills. Half gain on magic and other skills._

And I somehow know that. Ok.

"What about you?" He asks.

"Combat Support."

 _Combat Support doubles gains on crafting skills. Half gains on non-crafting skills._

I don't know how this gains system is going to work. I assume it's similar to skill experience but since this is apparently real life…eh. I'll figure it out as we go.

…Man, I am glad this is Skyrim though. I don't think I would be nearly as calm about being attacked by a fucking Dragon if I the setting was just a little bit different.

"Well, we're free." Ralof sighs. "Thank Talos for that."

"Was that really Alduin?" Hadvar sounds a little worried. "And not just your average dragon?"

"When was the last time you saw an 'average' dragon in Skyrim?" Ralof says in a 'you're an idiot' kind of voice. "I need to get this information to Ulfric, he needs to know that we're tangling with the World Eater."

He gives Hadvar a glance, like a 'are you going to stop me?' glance.

"And I need to inform the Legion." Hadvar nods, his hand going to his sword.

"Since you both didn't expect this, I think that means we're all neutral here." Jake steps in. "So let's agree to not kill each other immediately?"

"He's right." Ralof nods. "Skyrim deserves to be safe from all threats, not just the damned Imperials."

"The Imperials are trying to keep it safe, regardless of the Stormcloak's efforts." Hadvar replies with just a light jab. "I have my duty."

"As I mine." Ralof sneers.

So…

"Where do we go from here?" I mean, I know we're going to

"Riverwood."

Yeah, that.

 _Both Hadvar and Ralof said that at the same time._

"No point travelling further until we restock." Hadvar says. "Though I daresay we have different people in mind."

Ralof smirks. "Indeed."

The two…uh.

Well they're walking to Riverwood, but um…are they friends? They're like…trying real hard to not be next to each other, but are totally keeping pace, but are not…

"Is this how yaoi starts?" Jake muses in an undertone.

…

…

We make our way to Riverwood from…

Well, it was sometime after midday when we started walking, it's a little after dusk now that we've crossed the threshold into Riverwood.

 _Total wolf meetings?_

Zero, because wolves aren't random encounters. They're probably stalking us though.

Anyway, we also managed to touch the Ritual Stones. Jake picked Warrior and Aria picked mage.

 _Leaving us with…_

Warrior.

 _Really._

…What? It's not like the stones are unique. I took Warrior to see if it would do what it does in the game, which is to make all physical based skills grow faster. My hunch says no, but we'll see.

"Two warriors and a magician." Hadvar says approvingly. "Sovngarde would have frowned on your execution."

 _Ralof looks annoyed that his line was stolen._

Anyhoo…Riverwood.

Riverwood is a village with a population of maybe 500 by my estimates of roof-counting. The village is more lively than it is in game, likely due to its importance as an immediate stop between Falkreath and Whiterun…and Helgen, though Helgen is in itself a midstop between Falkreath, Whiterun, and Riften.

It's very lightly patrolled and has a militia presence made of locals armed with axes. I wish I was surprised.

Still, reminds me of home, only more…European.

Anyhoo, Hadvar goes for a meeting with his uncle Alvar The Local Blacksmith and Ralof meets with his sister The Lady At The Mill or some shit.

Aira decides to go with Hadvar, so the two of us tags along.

 _Or as Ralof put it: "I don't need the two of you to make my job any harder."_

He kicked us out of the Stormcloaks. Might be because we tried real hard to avoid getting him killed? I dunno.

Either way, we meet Alvor, who lets us into his house, and we alert him of the danger of Alduin.

Needless to say…he wasn't real convinced of the Dragon in the game, and he _sure as hell_ isn't convinced that the Dragon was The World Eater.

Ultimately, he does agree that Whiterun needs to be alerted of the dangers, and tasks Aria on the job per our suggestion.

 _Why?_

Well…to put it simply? Alduin bothered her path, not ours, so we don't have any real concrete information beyond "it was loud and hot."

"The journey to Whiterun will take around three days." Alvor says. "It's late, so please make yourselves at home."

Well there's like two beds and uh…four guests.

"Good luck on your trip, Aria." I say and make to stand.

"Yeah." Jake stands as well.

 _We get some surprised stares thrown our way._

"I would've thought the two of you would go along with her." Hadvar says with genuine surprise.

So…how do I put this without sounding like an asshole? "She's more than capable enough without our help."

 _B+._

Shush.

"You can escort her on the way, Hadvar." Jake adds.

"The two of you don't seem to hold duty seriously." Alvar doesn't seem to approve.

Well I can't really talk my way out of this one. "The duty is assigned to Aria, not us." I shrug.

"So be it." Alvar sighs. "I wish the two of you well on your travels."

…

 _We're now back on the street._

Well, now what?

"We probably should have asked for money for a night in an inn." Jake says with 20/20 assvision. "Though that probably wouldn't go over too well."

Yeah, well…we'll manage.

 _Ultimately…_

We find a nearby inn, tell them we have no money, and offer to chop a bit of firewood in exchange for a simple room and some food.

Axe swinging is hard when the sun's gone down, but we manage. In related news, my arms are on fire and I hate everything.

 _We're given two simple rooms, though all rooms in this inn are simple._

"This is eminently uncomfortable." Jake says of the fur and thin layer of hay beneath us.

 _We're basically sleeping on the ground._

"No shit." The ground is hard and it's pretty cold with this thin blanket, so _boy_ are we not stripping down for this. "What made you take Great Weapons Master?"

He pauses. "I didn't." Jake says with some confusion. "It was taken for me. Did it do that for you too?"

I…yes? "Yeah." I know I didn't make a conscious decision to weigh perks or whatever, because I know I would have opted to avoid a min-max perk in favor of one that only had bonuses even if the bonuses are weaker.

 _Not much of a munchkin._

"So I guess they're like our level zero perks?" He has a musing tone. "Hmm. What are we going to do next?"

"Well, I figure we'll look around to see if there's anything important we can learn, and then we'll head out to the Barrow."

"She's gonna have to go for it later, right?" Jake's referring to the Dragonstone. "Are we gonna take it first?"

"Would be interesting to sell it for shits and giggles." I chuckle.

"I'm suddenly having second thoughts about tagging along with you." Jake laughs.

"What, because I'm showing my kleptomania?" I laugh with him. "Hey man, if she can't handle fetch quests then being the savior of mankind will be entirely out of her grasp."

"That's a terrible way to look at it!" He laughs. I think the living conditions are already driving us mad.

 _We banter some more before exhaustion overwhelms the discomfort and we fall asleep._

…

[The Next Day]

…

Oooh god my back hurts.

"Oh god my back hurts." Jake groans.

We both get us and _everything_ hurts like holy shit how the hell is this considered a good night's sleep.

 _You're spoiled._

I guess.

…In retrospect, this is rather like the beds my grandparents had, only not as heated by fire.

 _We get up and get a free meal of bread and thin soup from the Inn out of pity._

For the record this is not the same inn as the one staffed by Delphine.

Anyhoo, now that I have some time on my hands…let's get to reading!

Fun fact about real books: they don't vanish after one reading.

 _After two hours of learning, both of us finish the book._

We still can't cast the spell though, so…yeah. A bit of a letdown.

Oh well, next!

…

We spend the rest of the morning walking around Riverwood listening to the rather rampant whispers of an attack on Helgen. Seems like at least one person saw something like a glow of fire in Helgen's general direction.

Overall it was pretty pointless.

 _During lunch time, though…_

We hear someone go "hey" somewhere to our right. The voice came from behind a building and is definitely not shifty in any way.

 _We turn to see…_

A Dark Elf…forget the Skyrim name for it, but basically a shifty dude in patchwork armor.

"Can I talk to you two for a moment?" He asks politely, but shiftily.

 _Racial profiling is bad._

Naturally we're both a little bit suspicious.

"I'll pay for lunch."

Well he can't be that bad. "So, what do you want to talk about?"

 _That was fast._

"I heard the two of you talk about Bleak Falls Barrow last night." He admits to eavesdropping. "Apologies, but I'm a historian of sorts, and I'm looking for a little help getting there." He says with the mother of all shifty eyes.

…either he rolled a 1 on bluff or we rolled 20 on calling out bullshit, because wow that lie is bad.

But we're going to play along anyway. "Sounds interesting. What kind of help are you looking for?"

"Well." The man gives us a small, devious smirk. "I have, through copious research, discovered that the Barrow holds an immense secret, a treasure beyond imagination."

Fus is a good word, yeah. "And I imagine you're looking for some hired hands?"

"Not quite." He says cheerily. "Bodies I have plenty. What I'm looking for…is talent." He steeples his hands. "In order to gain access into the Barrow, I need an item from this village."

I think I know where this is going.

"Let me guess." I hold up a hand. "The owner isn't willing to part with it regardless of the offer."

The man blinks in surprise. "I can see that we're going to be fast friends." He smiles wide. "That is indeed the case. Sadly, I believe that my...appearance…is the cause of his unease."

Buuulllshiiiiit~~

"Thus, I would like you to negotiate for the Golden Claw held at the Riverwood Trader." He leans back. "Do that, and I'll have a spot on the expedition team for you."

So…this guy's…um. I don't remember his name, but I think he's the dude who almost gets Spidered until you kill the miniboss in the Barrow. I actually have zero guarantees that he won't just shank me outright after I hand him the claw.

…well, let's play along and see what happens. "Sounds intriguing. I'm in."

"I'm out." Jake shakes his head. "I have other jobs I have to attend to." He says with a badly disguised glare at me.

"Well, then good day to you." The dark elf dude says politely to Jake.

We finish our lunch and the Dark Elf (Arvel the Swift, Lord of the Ironic Names) excuse himself.

"Dude, you're not seriously going to do this." Jake notes when we're sure Arvel's gone.

"Not really, but it's worth looking into." I reply. "Besides, if we're going to live here, we might as well live it up a little."

Jake is…unconvinced. "Are you sure about that." He says in an 'I don't think you've thought this through' tone. Or a 'think it over you moron' tone. One of the two.

"Yeah. Ever been hit by a dragon when you were out in Riften in-game?" I ask him. "I would rather take chances and be ready rather than sit back and do nothing."

He exhales. "Alright, fine. I know you're clever, but don't get too crazy."

"You're going with Aria to Whiterun, then?" I ask him.

"Maybe not _with_ her, but yeah." He nods. "I'm gonna see if I can learn to use a sword before I throw myself out there, unlike some idiot I know."

"Feet first into hell." I grin and raise a fist. "Don't die."

"Same to you."

 _Brofist!_

Alright, now…how should I go about doing the theft thing?

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

Jake's not an actual person. Sorry to any real Jakes reading this.


	2. The Bleak Falls Barrow Experience

{ === + === }

So…I need to steal the Golden Claw.

First order of business, let's find the Riverwood Trader.

Shouldn't be too hard to find, since everything's conveniently in English.

Lessee.

 _We look around for a shop with the logo of the scales…but mostly it's for a shop that has the words we're looking for._

Ah ha.

 _So how long did that take us?_

Like thirty seconds. It's not a big place, the main road is straight and open and easy to observe against, and the Riverwood Trader is basically the biggest shop around here.

 _Alvor's smithy being directly across the street likely helped._

Anyhoo!

 _We enter the shop._

Let's see…that's…uh…what's his face. The shopkeeper. He's behind the counter chatting it up with a customer (of which the store has two or three) and the Golden Claw is literally sitting RIGHT THERE on the counter.

Judging by some of the words being tossed around the claw does quite a bit of good for his business. Not really surprised, to be honest.

 _We linger around for a little to play shopper._

Almost everything that would otherwise be shown by the shopping menu is on physical display…but everything is in barrels. Swords? In barrels. Beer? In barrels. Food? In barrels. Books? Barrels.

 _Barrels?_

In bigger barr-no they sit by themselves. Sadly.

The shop has a large empty spot for all us humans to walk around and the barrels line the walls. It's pretty neat, all things considered.

"Ah! A new customer!" The shopkeeper says after finishing his conversation with his previous customer. "The name's Lucan, and welcome to the Riverwood Trader!" He laughs in a very approachable way. "Does anything catch your eye?" He lowers his voice conspiratorially. "Or would you prefer to see some of our more exclusive stock?"

"Like you have something like that." A customer replies and laughs along with Lucan. Must be a regular, since that sounded like an in-joke of theirs.

"So, what do you need?" Lucan grins and leans forward expectantly.

I should note that I have like no money. "I'm interested in that claw." I say and Lucan's face _immediately_ drops. He leans forward on the counter to guard the claw. "Or, more accurately, I'm interested in the person who came looking for the claw before me."

"Oh, that Alvin guy?" Lucan sneers. "He came in here asking about the claw too. You with him?"

Also, pretty sure his name isn't Alvin, unless Arven has a brother.

 _Alvin the squeaky._

Eh, we know who he's talking about. "I'm always a step behind, sure." I theatrically sigh. "What'd he feed you to try and get the claw?"

Lucan grins. "Some tripe about him being an 'archeologist' or something." He straightens up and folds his arms. "I don't know about you, but last I checked no Dunmer ever walked around as anything other than a thief or a murderer." He scoffs.

Going by the lack of a raised eyebrow I see that that kind of thought isn't new around here.

"Not a very good thief if he's fed two different people the same lines." I theatrically mutter. "Though he's not entirely wrong about the claw having something to do with the Barrow."

"Oh really?" Lucan raises an eyebrow. "Do tell." He's skeptical, as he should be.

Thank god for unfair knowledge. "If I remember right, the court mage in Whiterun was looking for some artifact from Bleak Falls Barrow." I say seriously. "Last I checked, he thinks there's some chamber in the Barrow that can only be accessed by some kind of key."

"Oh really." Lucan says…but he sounds more serious this time despite being rather (understandably) doubtful.

"Obviously, he doesn't know what the key might be." I shrug. "Nobody knows what the key might be."

"Alvin did say this thing could unlock some mysterious, incredible power…" Lucan muses as he picks up the Dragon Claw. "And if it's as dangerous as you say it is, I better put it away."

…

Wait.

 _He puts it away underneath the counter._

No

Sir

Sir that is not the response I was looking for

"Good idea." Some of the other customers say and make my life harder.

Shit. Uh…"I…don't think that's such a good idea." I scratch my head. "Lucan, your shop has this claw as a centerpiece, right?"

Lucan nods. "Pride and joy."

Press the attack. "And Alvin's seen it already?"

"Salivated like a dog." Lucan agrees with pride.

"So if you put it away, people will talk." His sister…what's her face, gets my drift. "And sooner or later somebody will ransack the entire place for that claw."

"Yeah?" Lucan…is hostile, but he realizes this based on how the color's going into his face. "So what's your plan, Camilla?"

She looks at me.

Oh wait I'm supposed to have a plan "I'm worried that Alvin's going to do something drastic in order to get his hands on the claw."

"The treasure's that big?" A customer raises his eyebrow. He might go hunting for it.

 _Let's stop him from being dead._

"The treasure is probably not worth gold." I scratch my head again. "But the possibility of it being something so huge you've never dreamed of…that's enough to drive a man to terrifying heights."

Let's see…

Lucan isn't really convinced, but Camilla is…um.

She's positively _sparkling_ at the idea.

I seem to have failed spectacularly at my job.

"So your plan is…" Lucan says slowly.

"I'm not selfless." I sigh. "So the only plan I can guarantee you is that I try and obtain the treasure first. Everything else depends on more moving parts than I can influence."

"I hope you can understand why I'm slow to trust you." Lucan says wryly.

"I know." I nod. "Just keep in mind that people have their eyes on the claw."

…sudden inspiration strikes me! "And that it would be a lot easier to deny the claw having to do with anything if you get someone to check first."

"I'll keep that in mind." Lucan nods slowly. "So…you gonna buy somethin'?"

…

In the end, I bought a small bolt of rough cloth, some sewing needles, and some thread to the tune of five coins.

 _Where did_

The inn gave us a little extra coin for our firewood work.

Anyhoo…sewing!

…Well I mean he's not gonna give the claw to us so we might as well wait until later, right?

 _Ok, but why sewing?_

Why not sewing? I wanna get my hands dirty with this double crafting growth thing, and I don't have a forge—Alvor isn't going to just step back from his day job just because we're around. So let's see how this works.

Ok.

So.

 _The cloth we're holding droops around our hands because it is too big to manipulate, and we're slightly blanking out on how to make it more workable._

…good thing Lucan threw in a knife with the needles or this would be really awkward. Lessee…material wise this is very rough cloth, so I'm probably going to make some bags out of these…

I make bags just by sewing two pieces of cloth together, right? With bottom part of one piece extended over for support?

 _This is like 3d modeling 101, figuring out how to make crates and barrels again._

I know, right?

Well, let's cut some cloth and start playing with it. See what happens.

 _So we do. We find a nice spot to sit and start fiddling with cloth to see if we can make a bag._

...

Finish!

I don't have a good track of time, but the sky was blue before and it's still blue now, so it didn't take me the whole day. It probably took me like ten minutes, let's be honest.

So…hmm. This bag has about the containment space of my hand. That is, I can put my hand in it and nothing else.

 _So we made a wallet?_

Or else a very thin mitten. Let's see…ah.

 _We give the wallet a little tug and it comes apart rather fluidly at the seams._

Well, no surprises there. I need stronger thread if I'm going to make anything worth keeping.

Hmm…in terms of the actual building procedure…

…Although I had no idea what the hell I was doing, when I was actually getting my hands dirty, it felt like I had a little idea of what I was doing.

 _Um._

It's a little hard to explain. It's simultaneously the feeling that you're just bullshitting…and the feeling that somehow, some way…the bullshitting makes perfect sense.

I'm attributing this strange feeling to the Perk. Either way, we need to play with it more.

…

 _Two hours pass. Many people see us sewing and unsewing our pieces of cloth and watch with worried interest before going on their way again. In particular, one woman lingers towards the end of those two hours and waits until we finish._

…

Whew. Two hours later, I think I've gotten surprisingly good at this. Can I see my skills window?

…no, no I can't AGH

 _Text springs before us without warning. Text and pictures._

Oh god that was terrifying

Um

Uh

 _We take a moment to calm down and study what just popped up before us._

…Huh. There are multiple skill lists. Is this organized in any way?

 _We take a closer look at one of the lists and frown._

…what is this, Rune Factory?

Literally the first skill on the list: Breathing.

 _At…_

…12? Just twelve. No skill level or whatever. No experience bar, either.

So I'm 12 in breathing. I don't know what to make of that.

But um…that aside, there's also skills for walking, jumping, _looking_ , side-glancing, laughing, talking…

…we're just going to skip that list entirely because it's annoying.

 _Breathing: it is an annoyance._

No kidding. Lessee…the skills I _care_ about…

I have sewing, but the display is graphical rather than numerical so I have no idea what the fuck I'm looking at.

It's a hexagon display, but none of the points are labeled and there's no indication of progress or anything.

 _What does the shape look like?_

It's a hexagon with two of the six points jutting out. Without context I don't know what the fuck I'm looking at.

Who designed this UI, anyways?

 _We sigh visibly after dealing with a very invisible screen in our head._

In any event, this bag is looking pretty good.

 _We give our finished product—a coarse cloth wallet—a strong tug. It doesn't budge._

Sturdy enough to hold fifty coins. I think. I guess. I have no reason to believe this estimate.

So.

 _We turn our attention to the lady who's been watching us the entire time._

I think she's Lucan's sister. "What do you need?"

"You're quite focused on your sewing." She smiles. "I'm impressed. Not many men sit around working with clothing in broad daylight."

"The perks of being poor." I stretch because the ground is hard and I've been sitting for a while. "I'm assuming you didn't stop just to make conversation. I'm Ash."

She nods. "Camilla; and you're correct." Camilla produces from a knapsack…

Well.

My eyebrows go up. "I assume you didn't just sneak out with it?"

"You seem to assume quite many things." She quips. "No, Lucan changed his mind."

…I can't help but feel like 'changing his mind' isn't one of Lucan's few personality traits.

"Seriously." She insists after catching my eyes.

…welp, gift horses don't need dentistry and all that. "Ok…" Hm. Judging by her body position she's not about to give the claw up. "…you're going too, aren't you."

Camilla grins wide.

Oh fuck™.

…

 _So we're not going to convince her to, y'know, not go?_

To what end? She has the claw, we kind of need the claw, if we try to talk her out of it she'll just go home with said claw, and then we'll have to wait for Aria to do this quest like a sensible human being, and I'm not into being sensible.

…plus, if worst comes to worst having a scapegoat would help in the art of getting the hell out of dodge.

Also there's the chance of Arven robbing their shop blind in search of the claw if we call this off, so avoiding that is also in our best interest, and we can use an extra pair of eyes. Plenty of plusses with no real minuses to have her along.

Anyhoo, we find Arven chilling at the inn we resided in.

"I see you have a made a new friend." Arven says politely as the two of us strides over to his table.

 _There's like four tables in total._

It's not a big place…so technically everyone should also know each other.

Hmm. A little bit problematic if that's actually the case. Means we can't use Camilla as a scapegoat and get away with it (easily).

"Since she's the owner of the claw, it only makes sense for her to tag along." I shrug. "Nothing dangerous to an archeological survey, so there shouldn't be any problems."

Arven isn't too happy that the lie(?) boomeranged on him like this, but he's experienced enough to play along without skipping a beat. "Indeed, my colleagues and I have the place properly surveyed up to the entry point." He says politely. "So there should be no unexpected dangers."

Ahem. Buuullshiiiit~~

But I have to pretend. "Excellent." I rub my hands together. "So when do we leave?"

"Right now, actually." Arven tosses some coins on the table and stands. "This trip has been postponed due to this little endeavor, and I can't tell you how happy I am that it's been solved." He says, in a tone that suggests he was anything but happy about all of this.

I get the feeling he's gonna gut us as soon as we leave Riverwood.

I need to hire some hands.

 _How about that wood elf archer stalking us rather conspicuously?_

Or the bard who's definitely not barding because he's too busy listening?

…

We follow Arven and head towards the Riverwood Bridge. Since Riverwood is bigger than it is in game, the road to the bridge is also consequentially a little longer. It takes us somewhere around three minutes to arrive at the bridge rather than the game time of instantly.

 _Two sets of footsteps behind us tell us of stragglers._

"I see we're being followed." Camilla sighs.

"I don't recognize them." Arven says after a cursory glance over his back. "If they're friends of yours, you are responsible for them. I already have my own expedition to run." He says, managing to sound rather apologetic.

Welp.

 _We wheel around._

That's Sven the Bard and God Knows Who the Archer Elf. They seem to be slightly packed for travel.

I could use the help. "If you're gonna follow, keep up!" I call out.

Sven's unarmed save for his instrument, and Archer Elf has brought a small bag along with his bow and arrows…and a knife.

He's boyfriend material in Skyrim, it looks like.

"Who are you and what do you plan to do with Camilla?" Sven hisses as soon as he catches up. Camilla's went ahead by a few steps so we, the three stooges, can discuss boy things.

Or something.

"We're going up to Bleak Falls Barrow." I say conversationally. "So the two of you are coming along?"

"Why there?" The elf huffs. "Isn't it just an old burial site?"

"It's not just _any_ burial site, Faendal." Sven snaps at him. "It's a proud Nord to be interred there."

"Right." Faendal doesn't give a fuck.

"Well…" So I know Camilla's listening in because I'm pretty sure her eyeroll could be felt across the continent. "I know the two of you have your eyes on the lady up there."

They practically stop short.

"How do you know that?" Sven demands a little shakily.

Faendal is a little better at owning up. "I-yes, yes I do."

 _Camilla stops as well. We have turned to walk backwards and thus do not see this._

"So I want the both of you along on this trip." I grin, and then frown. "If only because I'm damn sure Arven has something up his sleeve."

Wups.

 _We walk into someone._

"What's this about?" Camilla inquires in a curious tone.

"My bad." I say as an apology. "The two of them like you. Pretty sure they wrote letters too."

Oh-hohohoh WOW they went pale.

You know, the one thing I disliked about their sidequest was that it was impossible to tell her that both of these guys were assholes, like "hey so you know the two guys? They're trying to lie about each other to you" and have her just be like "ok well fuck both of 'em" in a strictly nonsexual manner.

 _You can steal both of their fake letters in game, but it still resolves as if you gave her one of the fake notes first rather than the sensible third option of "fuck 'em"._

"I'd be interested to read those letters." Camilla smirks.

"W-well, um…" Sven hurriedly changes the subject. "Bleak Falls Barrow isn't too far from here, so we should arrive in about an hour."

Faendal also changes the subject. "What's this about Arven not being trustworthy?"

"Dude's got liar written all over his face." I shrug. "I won't be surprised if something happens up there, so keep on your guard." Funny how my judgment is entirely not based around Arven's character and not about him being a Dunmer.

 _And funny how literally nobody will believe you._

…

Anyhoo, as we're walking…

Sven's basically Nord Man A. Blond hair, strong build despite his bardic prowess…y'know, standard.

Faendal is…I have to admit I've never really paid attention to the elves in Skyrim, because the whole "let's make the people more real" business is incredibly boring to me, and because any elves I mod in invariably would be of an incredibly fair-skinned and…makeup'd, demeanor.

 _Also they're 100% women. Incredibly busomy women._

I love busomy women.

Faendal otherwise looks very physically fit, and the way he's scanning the surroundings makes me think he knows how to use that bow. Makes sense, since he gives you archery training if you side with him on his side quest. He probably hunts as a hobby.

Camilla…is what I expect from a non-Aria lady of Skyrim, I think.

Like, she's pretty, and her build is very lean and mean. Like she can probably throw down with a bear and…well, I don't think she'd _win,_ but she could give the bear a run for his money.

…I get the feeling her appearance is probably common for a lot of women who live in these smaller villages. Like…they put their energies into getting the more practical things for life. I imagine the women who visit the Cloud Top District very often might be more plushy, since they wouldn't worry as much about basic sustenance.

 _Plushy?_

Yes, plushy. Now shush.

 _We take an hour to travel to the fort guarding the entrance towards Bleak Falls Barrow._

Unlike the game (where the tower is populated by bandits), there are two villagers here.

"Going up to the Barrow, Sven?" Villager A (armed with a greatsword) asks.

"With my new friends." Sven replies cheerily. "We're going up with Arven."

 _We are in no way his friends._

Sven's a good dude. Just kinda useless. Not that I'm one to talk.

Also, Arven has been walking in front of us the entire time, just barely too far for us to make conversation, but not far enough where he would seem to be isolated.

Well now he's besides us, so that point's moot.

"Finally got your way in, huh?" Villager B grins and I just realized that if I'm not being directly told about them being Bandits in game I would have no way to tell if they were Bandits until they were close enough to attack.

Also known as if this was a trap I would have just walked into it.

"With her permission." Arven says evenly. "How's the weather?"

"The snow's died down some." Villager? A replies. "If we want to make a move, now's the time."

Ominous.

"Yes." Arven nods…and hurries up the hill. "Come on, we should go before it gets dark." He says distractedly.

…I'm a little disappointed, not gonna lie. I kinda expected a fight.

 _You would have died. Besides, they knew Sven._

Still disappointed. Also Sven's a bard who plays at inns, of course they would know him.

Anyway, we follow the trio up the path for another twenty minutes, where the ground gets progressively slushier and snowier, until we come to the behemoth of a structure that is Bleak Falls Barrow.

I wish I wore more clothing.

 _We have turned our bindle into a waist wrap._

Still wish I wore more.

 _Everyone else is pretty ok with the weather._

I grew up on heaters lay off jeez

 _Arven's literally exposing his arms._

I have a sewing kit. What more do you want from me?

…

As a group, we hurry up the grandiose stone stairs and come to the entrance to the Barrow. Without another word, Arven opens the door and enters.

 _We follow along._

So. First impressions…

One: it's a lot darker here than it is in game.

Two: there's no guy dead due to Skeevers.

 _We go a little deeper._

Rubble and collapsed columns aside…it's not bad.

We come to the campfire, where six Bandits(?) clad in fragmented leather and fur armors are huddled around, drinking some kind of soup.

"The prodigal asshole finally returns!" The large, bearded one of the group laughs when Arven (who's leading the group) walks into the campfire's light. "We're about to die of old age, waiting for you out here!"

"Apologies, but it took longer than I thought to get people to trust me." Arven the Dark Elf smirks.

 _He gets a few laughs from the group._

Beard gulps down the rest of whatever's actually in his bowl and set it down. "Alright, we're ready to leave whenever."

Note how they're basically ignoring us…except the woman bandit.

"You lot." She says/commands. "The insides of the Barrows are dangerous. Don't touch anything if you want to keep your fingers."

"Understood." Sven gulps.

True to their archeological image, she's wearing mage robes…but it's badly tattered and barely holding together. Underneath is her armor.

Hmm.

Pretty sure that makes them bandits, but for some rather obvious reasons I'm gonna keep my mouth shut.

 _They quickly clear the camp, grab torches, and head down deeper into the Barrow._

Hoo boy it's dark down here.

Fortunately, the enclosed space means the light has plenty of room to dance around and create terrifying shadows in the corners.

I'm not fond of horror games. I don't like mods that made Skyrim darker. Not least because they made the game fucking impossible to play and that games designed with a specific lighting in mind can't really handle fundamental presentation changes

 _We're ranting because we're scared. Unlike the four of us, the rest of the group seems to be in good spirits._

They must have made this part of the journey before.

What was the first difficulty of the Barrows again?

 _We round the corner._

Oooh right.

There's a room lit by skylights to the outside. Inside the room are three heads, each head with a carving in its opened mouth. One of the heads has fallen onto stone floor and is surprisingly still mostly intact (likely because the ground is soft). To our left is a set of (probably rotating) obelisks with carved images of snake, eagle, and whale.

In the middle of the room is a lever, and across from us is an iron gate.

So in game, did Arven close the gate after going through it?

Hmm.

"Here we are boys, the first challenge." Beard grins. "Shouldn't be too difficult, aye?"

We get one foot into the room and

"I got this." Bandit B says confidently…is he the dumbass that ju

 _He strides confidently up to the lever and puts his arms (and weight) behind it. The rest of the party hurriedly backs off into the hallway._

Oh yes he's that one fucking hell

 _We charge forward._

As Dumbass throws the lever, we tackle his shins and send him flat onto the ground.

 _Pewpewpewpewpew_

Poisoned darts fly over our head for some time, then ceases. The lever also returns to its original position.

"You moron!" Beard yells, walks in, and drags Dumbass up to his feet. "You could've gotten all of us killed!"

Fun fact: if you attack Dumbass in game (before he script-throws the switch and dies) he actually has a ton of health.

"Whatever happened to not touching anything?" I wheeze and let Arven pull me up. "Jesus."

"Um…I…" Dumbass looks dumbfounded. "Jeez, boss, I'm sorry, I just thought-"

"You leave the thinking to us." Beard cuts across him. "And don't do that shit again, or I'll cut your neck myself." He then turns to me. "Thank you for what you did back there. That took guts."

"If I'm gonna die due to stupidity I'd rather it be my own." I laugh nervously. "You ok?" I ask Dumbass, who nods.

"Alright, so as I was about to say…" Arven sighs. "This room has a puzzle."

All of us look at the stone heads, look at the obelisks, and looks at the stone heads again.

 _A minute of rotating some rather heavy obelisks later._

"Sovngaard would've laughed you back to the living if you died back there, brother." Bandit NPC laughs at Dumbass.

We've crossed the oh-so-difficult puzzle after playing with the obelisks. For bonus credit we made Dumbass throw the switch a second time just to see him sweat.

The obelisks actually took some effort to turn…I don't think I would have played this puzzle and still had juice for combat if I came alone.

Anyway, we have crossed the threshold…and we see a chest before us.

"Ka-ching." Arven says, showing off his greedier side for the first time since we've met him. He quickly scopes the chest for traps and, likely not finding any, pops it open.

"Anything good?" Beard asks him.

"Nah." Arven ruffles through what sounds like paper. "Just this." He brings out a small red stone…then tosses it back into the chest. "Nothing of worth."

It was a ruby. I could've held on to that and forgotten about it in my inventory!

 _Arven is likely holding onto his façade of being an archeologist rather than a looter._

"Right, well…let's keep going." Beard says. He sights some forgotten torches sitting on a shelf and pulls them down.

Anyway, we keep going and hit a spiral staircase…and then we hear skittering.

"Skeevers." Beard says. "You two." He gestures to a pair of Bandits armed with short swords. "Front and center."

"Aye." The SS brothers acknowledge, pull swords, arm shields, and go down the staircase carefully.

With Beard and the rest of us providing ample light, we descend without much issue…and then the Skeevers attacked.

One of them springs up from underneath the stairway—where we had no light—and bits SS1 on the shin…and then jerks.

SS1, with a cry of pain and surprise, has his center of gravity completely shaken and falls to the ground. Another Skeever lunges for his face and latches onto his nose.

The Skeever (and his friend) then shriek in surprise and pain as two arrows pierce into their sides.

The Face Skeever, with a hiss, releases his bite and looks up at the staircase, where Faendal put another arrow straight into his skull.

The Shin Skeever retreats back into the darkness under the staircase, but SS2 has already jumped down and plunges his sword into the Skeever.

We hear more skittering coming from deeper in the Barrow.

SS2 blocks the bottom section of this stairway entrance—a door two people wide—with his shield. He holds off the Skeevers for a few swings until SS1 gets his footing.

The two of them then wall up and dispatch the remaining three Skeevers without much issue.

"Cripes." SS1 seethes, having dropped to one knee as soon as the fight ended. "Little buggers have sharp teeth."

Another bandit takes out some cloth from a bag he has and wrap it around SS1's bleeding shin. He then gives a small vial to SS1 who downs it in one gulp.

"Can you walk?" Beard asks him.

SS1 hops to his feet and gingerly test his weight. "I'm going to be pretty useless for a few minutes." He determines. "But I'll manage."

"Good shot back there." The lady bandit claps Faendal on the back. "You have some good eyes."

"I hunt Skeevers around Riverwood all the time." Faendal boasts a little. "Compared to a shot in the undergrowth this is nothing." If I didn't know better I'd say he was shooting Wamp Rats.

"Yeah?" Beard grins. "You can teach our guys a thing or two about handling a bow." He gestures to the last remaining bandit and the medical bandit (both bow armed). "They can't hit a target to save their life!"

 _Some light laughter to take the edge off of the adrenaline._

We have now exited the staircase to the…um…

It's the room with an embalming table and fireball scroll. There are shelves lining the walls.

We go about looting the place and come out with the fireball scroll and an Iron Dagger, which I take.

"About time our little hero got some iron." Beard says approvingly, because so far we've been decidedly unarmed.

Except for the Imperial Sword, which, as far as Beard was concerned, is just a little toy and therefore didn't count.

We then reform and proceed to move on…and then we hear more skittering. Of a decidedly less mammalian nature.

"Spiders." Beard grunts and hefts his two handed axe.

True to his prediction, Frostbite Spiders start pouring out of the woodwork.

 _There're two of them._

Pouring, I say!

Beard and Woman Bandit (both with heavy two handed weapons) cut the spiders down before they can do much beyond look spidery.

But we still hear skittering.

"Spiders must've made their lair in here." Beard grunts. "Let's go."

Cue montage of us killing spiders until we die of old age.

 _Again with the hyperbole._

They're on the walls, on the ceilings, on the ground…they're not spewing poisonous vomit as us, which is nice.

Still, nothing we can't handle, and soon enough the rest of the spiders have retreated into the shadows.

 _Rest of the spiders?_

They come in all sizes, and only the large, shin-height ones were aggressively attacking. Smaller, normal, hand-sized spiderbabies stay out of our way.

"I don't like the look of this." Beard grunts.

 _We come to the Spider Room._

Or rather, we hit the hallway right next to it. This is the place where, in-game, you would've have heard Arven shout for help.

'course, Arven is with us now, so that's not really a possibility.

"Archers." I say suddenly, making everyone jump. "Eyes to the ceiling."

"What's on the ceiling?" Faendal mutters as he scans said ceiling warily.

"More giant fucking spiders." I mutter back, also scanning the ceiling warily.

The ceiling is very rock and solid…but we can all tell that the adjacent room has an ominously large hole in said ceiling.

"Let the archers deal with the ceiling." Beard grunts. "Everyone else keep your eyes on the ground."

 _We cautiously enter the room._

Heere deathy deathy deathy…

Oh fuck

 _The Giant and very much so not wounded Giant Frostbite Spider drops from the ceiling without making so much as a sound. It immediately vomits webs onto us before we had time to react._

Super oh fuck

 _Faendal, along with the SS brothers and Beard, dive out of the way. The rest of us get hit with the web._

"Focus on the damned spider!" Beard roars and charges said spider with his axe.

This web is making me queasy.

 _It's probably poisoned._

Probably.

 _We tear at it with our dagger and sword combo and get some of it off._

Beard puts his axe into the Spider's side, causing it to screech. Also spiders really should not screech because it is terrifying.

A smaller spider sneaks up behind Beard, but one of the archers (probably Faendal) snipes it dead.

Spiderboss, in retaliation to Beard's axe, smacks him with one of its barbed and armored legs (fuck evolution), drawing blood and likely poisoning Beard.

Beard backs off a little, letting the SS Brothers shield-charge into the giant spider, sending it back a pace.

The spider then pukes thread again. I think thread is supposed to come from a spider's rear side, but obviously this guy didn't get the message. The web entangles SS1.

The thread is also quite different, as SS1 can't seem to break free…

 _So what are we doing at a time like this?_

We, like Sven and Camilla, are spectating.

I mean c'mon we all have knives and can literally do jack shit.

Sven's a fucking _bard_ with no bardic skills. Skyrim needs bard skills.

Anyways.

Spiderboss got tied up by SS1 long enough for SS2 to intercede and drive his sword into its eye(s). The hit causes the spider to break its connection to its threads, so SS1 (who was tugging furiously at said threads) sudden lose his balance and fall on his ass.

Spiderboss shrieks again, and this time it

Ok are spiders allowed to do that?

 _One of its legs snaps forward and strike Beard with incredible speed and force._

I mean I know small spiders and spiders move like they're twitching but I'm _pretty_ sure that kind of movement goes out the window when you're, y'know, big.

 _The hit on Beard causes the spider's barbs to sink deep into his leg, and the spider, as if sensing it latch onto prey, turns on Beard and swings one of its other clawed legs down onto Beard's shoulder._

The singular thing on the end of a spider's limb is a claw right?

 _Beard goes "You fucker!" and latch onto the clawed leg with his hand (impaling his palm on the leg's barbs in the process). He then begins hacking away at the leg like it was firewood._

 _Also, maybe we should get a fucking move on before the spiders decide to eat us._

Again, do what? We have no combat skill.

The archers put three more arrows into spiderboss and it screeches at them.

WELP

 _We throw our dagger at the giant spider._

It digs into spiderboss's back and does nothing else of note. Go us!

 _Beard, after three hacks, take spiderboss's leg apart and falls back a pace due to how hard he swung._

"Bastard's got guts." Beard seethes and pulls the leg out from his shoulder.

"Let me see that." Sven says of Beard's shoulder. He knows lay on hands, doesn't he.

 _Sven's puts his hand on Beard's shoulder and begin channeling in a bright light._

Beard's wounds close and yeah he knows Lay on Hands. Fun.

We are objectively the least useful member of the team.

Except maybe Arven.

…Where is Arven?

 _Camilla gives a surprised gasp as the strap of her bag (the bag with the Golden Claw) is suddenly cut._

THERE HE IS.

Arven just took Camilla's purse. Before any of us had the time to spare (because spiderboss is still alive) he takes off at a run towards the webbed hallway on the other side of the room.

 _He breaks through the webbing and keeps going._

I think he gets stuck in canon, but that might just be me.

"That ASSHOLE!" Beard screams at Arven's retreating figure. Meanwhile, SS1 and 2 have found the spiderboss's sweet spot in front of its face and were hacking away at it like nobody's business.

Spiderboss goes down after they lay it on him a few more times. Beard, likely dealing with his rage, takes his two handed axe and cleaves spiderboss's head from the rest of its body.

"If we hurry, we can catch up to him." Lady bandit reassures Beard.

"Aye." Beard hoists his axe. "I'm going to _murder_ that traitor." He growls.

"I don't like this." SS1 mutters. "Whatever's in there, he's going to get them riled up just in time for us to fight them."

…he's pretty right about that.

"Then let's take things slow." I suggest.

"He's going to get away if we plod abut." Beard snaps. "I haven't spent weeks camping out here just for a _Dumner_ to leave with the spoils."

"You were here for weeks?" Camilla notes with surprise. "What for?"

"Because it was a fun time." Beard snarks. "What do _you_ think it was for?"

"My point is." I say clearly, raising my voice to stop any further distractions. "Where is he going to run to?"

"He's going to get the treasure, you moron!" Beard isn't having any of my bullshit.

But I have some very good bullshit. "Yeah. Then what?"

 _Moment of silence as the party comes to comprehension._

That said, the Barrows does have a back exit, so maybe we shouldn't celebrate Arven's lack of a head too early.

"Now let's take it nice and slow." I say after everyone had enough time to feel a little stupid. "If there are more threats in there, no point letting them know we're around."

…

So with that out of the way, Sven heals up the rest of the dudes as much as he's able. Magicka regeneration isn't nearly as fast here as it is in game, I guess…or else patching up damage takes longer than just a few seconds.

Either way, Beard's got a nasty looking gash on his arm that doesn't look like it'll heal for a while.

 _Archer bandit bandages it up after Sven's Lay On Hands._

After our healing session, we take a short rest then set off deeper into the Barrows.

 _The short rest took about twenty seconds._

Yeah…turns out resting next to a giant spider corpse isn't all that restful. Who knew?

Either way, we set off again.

So I should mention at this point that the Barrow is pretty large, especially now that we're arriving at the place where all of the Draugur are…uh, presented.

Like seriously at least put in a drape or something.

Anyways the hallways are a lot wider than the game implied (in that all nine of us can walk side by side with no problems) and it's a lot dimmer. No convenient torches to light our way, and no convenient sky lights descending down this deep into the mountainside.

 _It's taken us about two minutes to go from the giant spider location to the first instance of the Draugurs._

Hmm…

 _Lady Bandit, who's leading the pack, raises her hand suddenly._

Stop signal.

So we stop right before rounding the corner.

"I don't know what's going on." She says, sounding quite afraid. "But the dead walks again."

…Going by the group's scoff, nobody believes her.

Until they see the oh wow that's terrifying

Until they see the beady, ice blue eyes floating disconcertingly in the air because we can't see their actual bodies.

So…yeah. Hadvar may be on to something when he said he was afraid of the Draugur.

"Damn that Arven." Beard seethes. "He must've known that this would happen."

I don't know. Even in canon the dude wasn't too good at planning ahead.

…So what do we do now?

 _We sit and observe the blue glowing eyes for a little bit longer until…_

We hear the sound of a metallic _thwack_ somewhere in the darkness. Like the loving hand of god bitchsmacking a face so hard its owner had to go back home to explain exactly what happened.

…in retrospect I can see this not being nearly as funny after we see Arven's mangled body.

"What was that?" Lady Bandit whispers upon hearing the thwack. All of the floating Draugur eyes turn to trace the source the sound.

"That was Arven getting his just desserts." I grin. "I don't think we can cross this area without tangling with the Draugur. Does anybody know some light spells?" I point that last question at Sven.

"Or else more torches." Beard growls.

For the record, Camilla's at the rear of the group and she has our only lit torch (we snuffed the rest for stealth).

"Or else more torches." I agree. "But I think magelight would be less restrictive."

"I can do that." Sven says. "It's the part of a bard to be able to release some dancing lights."

He's way more useful than we are. "Ok." I nod. "Weapons out, and prepare to engage. Whenever you're ready, Sven, release your lights."

 _Sven concentrates for a moment and creates two balls of light of the sticky variety. He then tosses them high into the air, where they stick onto the rocky pillars and walls and illuminate the combat area._

Like the game, we're looking at a relatively open area, though with more pillars than just two, as befitting an locale with roughly twenty active undead…

Also they all totally see us throwing up lights. Though, I have to admit, the Draugur are way less scary when they're entirely visible.

"Strike!" Beard roars, and throws himself into battle.

…

So as it turns out, Draugur aren't all that good in the longevity department. Whatever was responsible for allowing the Draugur to move certainly didn't bless them with increased health, since Beard's first few swings took him through the Draugur limbs like they didn't exist.

…

 _With no time at all, the bandit group viciously mauls their way through the Draugur group._

The good thing about fighting Draugur is that they drop ancient weapons, which…are really blunt and undermaintained, but better than nothing. This is worth noting, because our weapons actually deteriorate in combat…case in point, The shields of the SS brothers have been badly damaged, and Beard's axe head is separated from its body.

To that end, we're looting the newly corpsed corpses.

So now we have two ancient nord axes and an ancient nord sword.

"Not good in a fight, but quite good when it comes to taking things that aren't yours." Beard smirks. "Are you sure you're not just a thief in disguise?"

"If I were I wouldn't tell ya." I grin right back.

 _So why the axes?_

I wanted more things to throw. I think that's going to be my thing. Throwing weapons.

…

With all the Draugur down and no more rising up, we can advance forward again.

Which we do, and we come to the…ew.

Arven's corpse is a little bit mangled by the giant steel spiked wall trap (the one that swings forward and slaps your everything) and he's…uh…stuck to said trap.

It is, sadly, not the silly "Bethesda physics" type of stuck, but the…um…real type of stuck.

…judging by the bones littered at the bottom of the trap, he's not the first, and likely not the last.

"Light." I say (somebody gives me a torch) and then crouch down close to the floor…yeah.

The trap isn't too hard to spot, fresh Arven blood aside.

"Should be pretty obvious." I say and gesture to the raised block of stone. "Don't touch this."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Beard agrees, raises his foot…then stops. "That's not the only trap, is it?" He asks suddenly.

We look up, look around, and realize that…yes, a half-square-foot block of raised stone in the middle of like a twenty foot wide hallway would make for a terrible trap. I think I see at least three more triggers on the ground.

Sigh, and all that. "I don't feel like mapping out this entire hallway." I gingerly back away and take the long way around to reach the spiked grate itself.

"What are you doing?" Beard asks cautiously.

 _The entire party has now backed away out of smack range._

Hmm…

 _We examine the hinges with the help of our torch._

The hinges are rusty but obviously operational. There are two of them, and they seem to be rather sturdy.

'Rather' being the keyword. "Beard, come here a sec."

Beard of course doesn't know that's what I'm calling him, and it takes him a minute to understand that he's the one we're calling for.

Likely because he's not the only guy with a beard.

"What do you want?" He asks rather sullenly.

"Destroy these hinges." I order him and point to the rusted and rather large hinges.

Beard was a little bit doubtful. "Huh?"

"I figured you were really good at hitting things." I say with zero shame. "So hit this thing as hard as you can."

"You'll wake up all the Draugur by doing that." Faendal warns…rightly, I should add.

"Beats getting killed by a stupid trap." Beard grins, and slams his axe into the hinges.

…

Well, I mean…it's dark out, so…

 _He missed and also made a very loud noise._

"Second time's the charm." Beard laughs nervous and slams his axe home.

He hits, but the hinge doesn't budge.

"Stubborn son of a bitch." Beard growls at the inanimate object and hacks into it with his axe a few more times.

The top hinge (or a piece of it, it's too dark to tell) pops off with a "ping!" and the entire contraption dips sideways.

"Hey Sven." I call out. "Step on one of the pressure plates, will ya?"

Sven's response is a very understandably-in-disbelief "what?!"

 _There is the shuffling of feet._

Likely everybody else moving out of the way.

"Or else take one of the ancient axes we got and slam it into a pressure plate. I'm not fussy." I add.

"Oh…fine." Sven sighs and backs up.

With the help of Camilla's torch he ahahaha the fuck kinda form is that

 _Sven's swings the axe with his butt jutted waaay out._

He hits the plate though, and the trap…groans, moves a quarter of the way rather haphazardly, and then the bottom hinge snaps off. So the entire contraption collapses to the ground with a crash loud enough to wake all of the dead.

"Alright, move!" I laugh (because I am very scared). "Kill the damn Draugur before they can walk upright!"

…

…

Strangely enough it goes exceedingly well.

This last section of graves has Draugur, but they were barely up, so we had enough time to rush and maul them down before it turned into an actual fight.

 _Total kills: 15._

Also this place is _way_ bigger than I remembered.

 _We advance down the side path leading to this strangely snowed-in area in the middle of the dungeon._

The place with the bridge and oh my god I forgot about real life physics.

"Careful." Beard warns us as we come to the rock bridge covered by snow next to a running waterfall. "It's slippery."

The SS brothers drag the female Draugur corpse—they killed it like a minute ago—and slide it onto the bridge like a…what do you call it, that sport with the target ring drawn in the ice and you have to slide cats into it or something.

 _The sport of Curling, as Google helpfully told us when we searched for "that sport where you slide things on ice into targets"._

Yeah, that. The corpse has proven conclusive to ice that the bridge is iced over to hell and back.

The corpse has also fallen down into the pit beneath the bridge, where I believe skeletons are alive down there.

"Sven, throw a magelight down there." I order him.

He shrugs and does as he's told. The magelight reveals the Draugur corpse floating in the water and a unit of around two Skeletons.

Faendal and the bandit archer offs said Skeletons in a flash, and we go back to our regularly scheduled programming of how to not die to a bridge.

…

 _And the solution is…?_

We axed the ice and cleared the snow, and we crossed without issue. We had to hug the bridge and cross on all fours, but still we crossed without issue.

We are, however, all now cold, wet, and miserable.

"I hate this place." Beard growls as we continue deeper. "I hate everything about this place."

 _We arrive at the set of hallways with the flaming pots and the conveniently placed ground oil._

The destructible objects tutorial, really.

"Ugh." Faendal wrinkles his nose. "What is this smell?"

…

…This smells like gasoline.

Like…this is legit gasoline.

"I don't know and I don't like it." Sven says in disgust. "Where's this smell coming from?"

Why is there gasoline in Skyrim?

 _Does gas burn like this? We never found out._

"Probably the glowy stuff on the floor." I mutter. "Hang on."

We scoop some of the liquid into an empty vial—an ex-health potion—for future use.

"Look alive." Beard warns as more Draugur round the corner.

"Put a torch to this thing." I say. "Or else shoot those hanging pots." I add upon actually seeing said hanging pots (so it wouldn't sound weird).

Faendal and Bandit Archer do as told, and

FUCK

 _The explosion from the two pots of explosives plus the road of gasoline knocks us all off our feet._

Ok, yeah. I probably should have considered that.

…my ears are ringing again.

Ugh.

 _"That was a terrible idea." Faendal says, but nobody hears him._

It takes us a good five minutes and one round of healing potions before we can hear again.

"Was that meant for the Draugur, or for us?" Beard sighs after we've all properly regained our senses. "I hate traps."

"I think it's less about the explosive and more about our tight quarters." I rub my poor poor ears. "Still, we should be coming up to the end soon."

"How can you possibly know that?" Sven asks incredulously.

I just scowl at him. "Because the alternative sucks."

"Hear hear." Woman Bandit laughs bitterly. "Let's delude ourselves into thinking this is going to be over soon."

Despite the possible mutiny, the drive of loot sends all of us onwards.

And we do continue onwards for another minute or so where we see a long hall-yeah this is the hallway with the giant swinging axe blades isn't it

God dammit I hate this place.

"Well, this isn't ominous at all." I say in a deadpan tone as I stare down this hallway. "Who wants to go first?"

"You can do the honors." Beard grunts and passes me a torch.

Figures.

So, in game this trap triggers as soon as you get close enough to it. I'm assuming a video game trigger zone doesn't work the same way in 'reality' as it does in-game.

 _We step closer to the hallway. Nothing happens._

Figures, though this is terrifying.

So…this activates based on weight? Or…

 _We raise the torch high into the air and see…_

Ah-ha. The fixture of the swinging arm. Obviously it's not moving right now, which is a good thing…the construct seems to be metal, and it's way too high for me to unhinge in any way.

…So how is it being held up? What gets it moving?

 _Without really thinking about it, we stomp our foot._

Ok that gets it moving

Whoa

 _We take a fast step back as the blades begin to swing._

That's really all it took, huh?

Ok, well…

…well the blades aren't really swinging fast. They're…uh…being obstructed by the rules of physics, so they're not very fast…

 _We sit and time the blades out for a bit._

There are a total of eight blades in this hallway, and each full swing takes roughly five seconds. The danger comes from the fact that a blade is only visible for a small amount of time, and the swing itself feels like it's a lot faster than it should be given how little space the blades have to work with.

In conclusion, it shouldn't be too bad.

 _We carefully but rather easily navigate the entire puzzle._

Seriously though this shit is way easy when you have the incredibly rare attributes of "having a neck" and being able to turn it.

And really, the danger of these blades seems to be being caught between the hefty axe head and the…um…opening, that they're housed in. And the tetanus, I guess, since these blades look rusted as all hell.

They're not very sharp is the point I'm making, they just have a lot of weight behind them.

 _After crossing the path, we pull on the chain that stops the blades…_

…but it's stubbornly refusing to move. HUUUUUUURG

 _We strain against the chain to no avail._

I don't know if it's because I'm weak or if it's due to the chain being immobile.

Anyhoo. "I crossed, but there's a chain here that I can't move." I call out. "So you'll have to go across the normal way."

"The normal way, he says." Sven snarks from the other side of the bladed hallway. "What about this is normal to you?" He calls out to us.

"The fact that it takes effort." I call back tiredly, because this dungeon is wearing on my nerves. "Now come on."

 _Beard goes "this is stupid." and crosses the hallway with little effort._

He gives the chain that would stop the swinging axe blades a strong pull, and…the chain snaps and uh…

Well.

Beard stares at the ring and chain in his hand for a bit. "I guess you're all fucked." He calls out after a fashion. "Now come on, we haven't got all day."

There was much grumbling, but since the hallway doesn't really challenge your normal physical abilities, it was crossed by everyone else without incident.

…

So we continue, through the room with the well-placed explosive lamp and the very well-placed clumps of skeletons right beneath said explosive lamp (Faendal took care of that one) and through more Draugur—at this point I really stopped caring because _fucking hell there's a lot of ground to cover—_ and we

FINALLY.

FINALLY.

Arrive at the door with the ring of stones.

 _To clarify: Draugur are pretty easy to kill when you have a party of six ambushing the dead before they can get on their feet or swing their weapons._

"I think I know what this is about." Camilla says after studying the sigils on the stone rings for about ten seconds. "This claw" She brings out the golden claw "has a series of marks on its palm. Bet you anything these sigils have to match a pattern here."

Camilla _does_ belong to the family that owns the thing so it makes sense that she's probably been staring at it for longer than we have run Skyrim at this point.

 _A measly 271 hours. We're as surprised as you are. We've played CK2 and Stellaris for longer._

Whatever happened to the 4th wall?

 _Sorry._

Anyways, Camilla figures out rather quickly that the sigils need to be aligned to the top, and the Bandit crew spins the rock wheels into place.

She puts the claw into place, press…gives it a little jiggle…and the entire contraption begins to move with a loud groan.

 _We all jumped at the loud sound._

"Alright, whatever's beyond here has to be good." Beard whispers when the gate has finished lowering into the ground. "Keep your eyes open. There could be anything in here."

…

Anything…yeah.

Wow. This place is huge.

We crossed the threshold into the most open space I think I've ever seen.

After the dungeon's…well, the hallways weren't exactly cramped, but…there's something in the air here that feels oddly hallowed.

…Or else this is what a desecrated site feels like and I'm the harbinger of the apocalypse, because I feel very at home here.

 _If it makes you feel better, you're not the only one who feels at ease here._

"I feel…like we're supposed to be here." Beard says with a minute smile as he surveys the area. "Something in my blood is calling to me."

"I know what you mean." Sven whispers. "But what does that mean?"

"I think we'll find out soon enough." Woman Bandit warns us. "Look at that."

She draws our attention to the massive rock wall at the edge of our torchlight.

I'm gonna go on a limb and say that that's the dragon dictionary.

 _The what?_

The rock wall where you get your words. The dictionary.

I should totally just call it the Dragon Dictionary from this point onward.

 _Anyways, we slowly advance towards the Dictionary—this is a stupid term, by the way—and see the single casket in front of it._

…Oh…shit.

The casket is open.

 _We advance towards the casket. Sven gets there first._

"It's empty." Sven says with alarm.

"Shit." Beard unhooks his axe and begins to look around. Sven throws up magelight which sticks to the DD and some of the rock pillars around us.

Suddenly this open area doesn't feel so good anymore.

While going through the…er…glossed over areas, I could do fine with just staying out of the fight, because there was a clear front line. Stay out of the front line, stay out of getting my face mauled.

No front line here. Eep.

 _Maybe we should get the tablet and get the hell out of here._

Trying to loot during this scenario would be the literal worst option.

"Maybe we're just being jumpy." Sven says shakily after a minute passes in utter silence.

 _Fus…_

"Yeah, maybe." Faendal loosens his bow.

 _Ro DAH!_

OH FUCK

 _The Draugur Overlord's Shout tears into the formation and blows everyone onto the ground._

Son of a bitch that came out of the left field

 _The damage was pretty light all around and everyone scrambles to their feet._

Pretty light my ass. My left leg is numb.

 _Like I said, light. Nobody else is having trouble._

"To the flanks!" Beard roars, and he plus the Woman bandit move to flank the Draugur Boss while the SS brothers move to engage the Draugur head on.

 _Draugur Overlord swings his axe over his head and hacks clean into SS1's shield (Iron)._

The strike shattered the wood and oh my god it's scattering everywhere

 _The shield's metal frame seems to frost over. SS1 quickly withdraws as SS2 attempts to slash the Draugur's arm._

The sword hits, but it doesn't go through. In retaliation, the Overlord brings his axe-haft into SS2's chin and ooh that sounds like it hurt.

SS2 stumbles back and the Overlord brings his axe—shield fragments and all—crushing into his face.

 _SS1 sweeps 2's leg, letting 2 drop and avoid having his face bashed in._

"Thank you!" SS2 says quickly.

With the Overlord recovering from his swing Beard goes in against its back. He's very loud about it too, with extremely heavy footsteps and a loud battlecry that reverberates against the stone walls.

…The Overlord might have heard him, since instead of trying to recover its axe it's just finishing its swing.

 _Beard suddenly stops his charge, noise and all. If we had the expertise we would've noticed that Beard's charge was designed for maximum noise rather than actual attacking power._

The Overlord's turn was too rough it seems. This time it can't quite pull out of its attack fast enough, and Beard buries his axe into its shoulder.

Also, Woman Bandit jumps in with her own charging attack and plunges her borrowed Ancient Nord Greatsword clean through the Overlord's ribcage.

 _Fus…_

We all heard it this time.

 _Ro Dah! There isn't enough time for anyone to yell anything like a warning._

The blow hits Beard full-on…and sends him flying like a ragdoll. I think the force knocked him out cold.

Oh shit

 _As soon as Woman Bandit made her attack, she let go of her blade so as to not be attached to the Draugur. She drew her own great axe at roughly the same time as the Shout, and was about to lay into the Overlord's legs when it sent its own axe haft into Woman Bandit's stomach._

 _Bandit Archer and Faendal both fired a shot at the Overlord at this point, and they strike home (shoulder and head). However, Overlord doesn't care for those things and, with a great arc, brings his axe down onto Woman Bandit's shoulder._

 _The hit cleaves Bandit Woman's left half of her body clean away._

 _Overlord then pulls the great sword from his body (blade-first, with the hilt cutting into its torso) and hurls the blade as hard as it can towards Archer Bandit._

 _Archer Bandit's attention is split between the suddenly disabled Beard, the suddenly dead Lady Bandit, and drawing a new arrow from his quiver, so he doesn't respond fast enough against the Great Sword. It strikes him clean in the head. The force of the impact sends him reeling back five steps before he collapses as a corpse._

 _For the next few seconds, everything is dead silent._

"Holy shit." Sven breathes softly.

 _His little utterance instantly causes the Overlord's eyes to turn towards him._

 _"Oh no." Sven's in an utter panic. "No no no no no no." He backs away very quickly and trips._

 _The Overlord's beady eyes gaze on Sven for a little longer, then it moves on to the SS brothers._

Fair to say everyone's shaken at this point. Jesus Christ, what the hell just happened?!

 _The past action took about ten seconds._

Ok, so what do we do?

Uh…uh…

Beard and Lady are dead, um…

 _SS1 and 2 are still flanking the target, but their morale and focus have been shattered, so they're keeping distance. Sven's on the ground, hyperventilating and frozen. Archer Bandit and Faendal have moved behind the rock pillars for cover. Camilla is also hidden, but in a much more professional manner._

 _We're standing out in the open like a fucking idiot™._

 _So as expected the Overlord homes in on us._

Shit.

Shitshitshit.

Suuper shit.

 _Overlord steps closer._

…well, if this is how it goes, then we're going out with a bang.

 _We draw our Imperial and stolen Ancient Nord swords._

I'd really like it if I could at least use a little magic before I go, though.

Ok…

From what I saw earlier, the Overlord's bullshit strong, but is only reactive towards immediate threats. It didn't make any kind of attacks towards the SS brothers after the two heaviest hitters got their attacks in.

…the heaviest hitters are now dead, so that's…that. I guess.

 _The Overlord charges forward in the crab-like walk that all Draugur seems to have, and it makes a sideways sweep with its axe._

See, that shit I can read.

 _We back off even before it makes its swing and it goes wide._

So the biggest danger is its follow-up attack after a shout, huh?

 _The Overlord recovers from its swing and follows up its attack._

Or not. It has no stamina limit, so that's also a thing.

I don't think I'll be able to take it down by myself, so let's organize…shite!

 _Fus!_

moveMoveMOVEMOVEMOVE

 _We see it open its mouth and immediate bolts to the side._

 _Ro DAH!_

FUCK

 _The blast unbalances us even as we're moving, and we fall to the ground._

Crabwalker! Crab at 9 o'clock!

 _What we didn't really notice before: the Overlord does not have to go back to the 'resting' position in order to use a Shout, so it's closing much faster than we anticipated._

ROLL

 _We roll to get our feet onto the stone floor and launch back into standing position._

The Overlord is then pushed a little by two more arrows. The arrows distract it long enough for me to get my bearings, but its attention is now shifted to the archers. Archer. Bandit Archer is dead, so it's just Faendal.

I need to stop it from going after someone else.

…wait why the fuck would I want to do that

 _Despite the sudden realization, we had already drew and tossed the Ancient Nord Axe at the Overlord. Given we're not that skilled at tossing shit, the blunt side of the axe hits the Overlord in the shoulder and deals pretty much zero damage._

Embarrassing, but at least we regained its attention.

 _Fus!_

SERIOUSLY

 _RO DAH_

FUCKING HELL

 _We were caught off guard by this second blast and only managed to guard against it by dropping low._

Ok yeah this is way more problematic than I thought

Time to call for backup. "Shields! Get up here!"

 _SS1 and 2 don't flinch but don't budge, since we're not their leader._

Fine then. "If you don't want to die like a little bitch, get your ass up here!"

"We just lost our boss, goddammit!" SS2 snarls. "What do you know?!"

"I _know_ you're not getting out of this in one piece if you don't step up!" I snarl back. "Now stab this little shithead with your little pointy dicks!"

…That last bit was a little too much, methinks.

 _SS2 glares at us._

Yeah, might have been too much. Also Overlord.

 _The Draugur Overlord's axe comes down, but we rush quickly out of the way._

Switch grip, reverse stab!

 _Given we're not good at this whole fighting thing in general, the reverse stab plinks rather uselessly on the Overlord's ancient armor belt._

Still, we got a hit in, that's good enough for me!

"You got a mouth but you can't use that sword for shit!" SS2 growls. "Outta my way!"

Ooh, nice. SS2 shield-charges into the Overlord and makes a nice-looking gash in its axe-flailing arm.

"Ohey, look at that." I say lightly. "So you do know how to fuck a corpse."

"Sod off." SS2 replies with a smirk. "So you getting' a piece of this or not?"

"I don't know, man." SS1 chuckles. "I'm not into dead people."

 _Faendal puts two more arrows into the Overlord. Also: Fus!_

This is getting seriously old

 _Ro DAH!_

 _The SS brothers drop and brace, letting themselves get blown back in exchange for keeping their footing._

We bolted right past the Overlord and was completely free from the Shout.

We were also free from the Overlord's reaction swing since we ran a little too hard and couldn't stop for a counterattack, but meh.

…?

 _There's a strange tingling sensation in our hand._

Too much stress, I guess. My hand's getting numb.

Gotta finish this now before I hit my very tiny limit.

Time to command! "Faendal! Hit that thing with every arrow you got! Shield bros, swords on my mark! Sven, Camilla!"

Um.

"Got any attack spells?"

 _That was an order markedly less yelled. Also, we have drawn Overlord's attention again._

"Flames." Both of them reply. "Everyone knows it." Camilla adds.

…wait, really? Like, everyone legit learns Flames in Skyrim?

"No better spell for warming yourself up in a pinch." Sven says as an explanation.

Can't say I care much for this strategy, but hey. "Alright, fine. Flames and arrows. Light 'em up!"

 _They do._

The Overlord gets cooked in two different directions and skewered in a third.

 _Faendal puts 10 arrows into the Overlord with 70% accuracy._

I guess shooting at an immolated target is rather difficult.

The Overlord makes some wild swings with its axe, but since we're all out of reach it doesn't do anything.

Camilla and Sven runs out of steam at about the same time Faendal stops shooting (more like he stopped because they ran out of steam) and the Overlord is suffering. Dear god please tell me it's suffering.

"Strike!" I roar.

The SS brothers and I all rush the Overlord and hack at it with our swords.

…anticlimactically, the Overlord collapses under our barrage of blows. Kind of like what happens when it goes on one knee and you get a kill without a dynamic kill cam. Feels unsatisfying.

 _We are all breathing rather heavily, so there's that._

"What a bastard." SS2 growls at it. "It's really dead, right?"

I kick away the great axe…it feels surprisingly cold. "To be sure, take off its arms." I order. "Also the head if you can help it."

"Aye." SS1 grabs the Overlord's left arm and gives it a yank, then hack it off like a tree branch with three solid blows. He then takes the other arm while SS2 takes Beard's great axe and behead the dead Overlord.

"Loot better be good, dammit." SS2 snarls. "Half the team's gone for this."

"Give the area one last look-around." I say as a rebuke. "There might be more traps and shit. We can get to looting afterwards."

"Who died and made you king?" SS1 snarks under his breath, but does as he's told.

 _We check around the room for some time, and find no further traps or Draugur._

They also didn't find the convenient exit, since torchlight isn't all that good at finding small push levers hidden in darkness. Either way, the looting!

…

 _Please wait…kleptomania in progress…_

…

The haul was…respectable. The chest isn't random drop loot, so it had a decent amount of coin and jewels. The armor lying around was also good, but nobody wanted to touch it.

"We'd need an outfitter to make it fit anyway." SS1 sighs. "Too many questions…and it's old, too."

So the armor is left alone. I took some scrolls and the Overlord's Great Axe of Cold.

I don't actually know if it is a cold-enchanted axe, but it makes things around it cold, so I think my estimates on its enchantment are pretty accurate.

Apart from that, I took a few jewels (ruby and sapphires) and a dusty spell book. The book's cover is way too dirty, and I know better than to open it up without identifying it, so…yeah. That's gonna wait in the sidelines until I can find someone to take a look at it.

Also, of course, I took the dragon tablet, which is like a four square feet tablet of 30 pound stone. It's light for its size, though I have to strap it to my back like a weird turtle.

I wish I had a cart.

"Is that thing really worth anything?" SS1 chuckles at seeing my newfound turtle-ness.

To be honest? "I don't think so. But I think there might be collectors who would pay a lot of money for this, provided we find the right person."

"We?" SS2 scoffs.

"Me." I correct myself. "Unless you want to come with."

 _Whatever happened to the Spare Bandit?_

Uh…oh. There he is. One of the Overlord's Shout smacked him into the wall headfirst and he's dead. He will be missed.

 _For how long?_

He is no longer missed. Moving on.

"Come with?" SS2's scoff upgrades to a laugh. "You know we're bandits, right?"

…I did. Kind of. Going by his reaction, Sven didn't.

"It was rather obvious after some ten minutes in your company." Faendal admits. "But I can't see why you can't stop becoming bandits."

"We have a bounty on our heads." SS1 smirks. "A thousand gold each. Think you can afford it?"

"No." I reply quickly before we get stuck in that tangent. "Do you think they'll seize your graverobbed goods when you go into town?"

"The guards don't care that much." SS2 waves away the idea. "It's too much hassle for them to confiscate stolen goods, so they'll just take our purse and be done with it."

Good to know.

 _We consolidate our earnings with the old wrappings scattered in the room, and we backtrack our way out of the dungeon._

The swinging axes stopped at some point, so that's nice. They stopped because physics finally caught up with them, leaving them dead center in the middle of the hallway, so that's rather less nice.

Still, better than being chopped to bits because our inventories are not hyperspaced. Or something.

While backtracking through the dungeon, we keep our eyes out for any further loot (like the little bit found by Arven) and take what we can.

I have to say, this kind of looting makes way more sense for our real-life shenanigans. Go in with the least amount of burden, kill everything that moves, then slowly backtrack out and take everything not nailed down.

I approve.

…

…

So…uh…

It's night now.

We're at the entrance to Bleak Falls Barrow and it's dark and windy.

Fuck™.

"Oh. Well." Camilla says conversationally upon seeing the time of day. "Lucan's going to kill me."

"Were we supposed to have you home by sunset?" I ask, also conversationally, because at this point my adrenaline has completely checked out, leaving me with just my exhaustion. My exhaustion tends to turn into snark and innuendo.

"He's not going to be happy we're spending the night together." Camilla laughs lightly. "If we hurry we can make it down, but it'll be dangerous. Should we camp instead?"

"Weather like this is no problem for a Nord." SS1 scoffs. "We'll be down in thirty minutes. Come on." He sets out confidently despite the darkness. The torch probably helps.

Hmm…

"We might want to get a move on." Faendal (who's bringing up the rear) warns.

Why is he warning us? Well.

 _We hear scuffling from within the Barrows._

Turns out Draugur don't die all that well. The ones in the front of the Barrow had already started to reraise when we crossed their paths again.

So our time here is short and camping out is out of the question.

"Yeah." I nod. "Let's move."

…

Our trip down the hills around the Barrow was…surprisingly peaceful, all things considered. While it was dark, the sky was clear and the amount of stars and the two moons provided more than enough light for us to tell where we're going.

Also there were no wolves, which is definitely a good thing.

In any case, the trip takes about 45 minutes and results in me getting winded as all fuck because I missed dinner and am hungry and this is way more physical exercise than I wanted but should have expected uuugh.

But we're home now. Yay.

Camilla, Sven, and Faendal go their respective ways with their rewards. I go with Camilla on her bidding (much to Sven and Faendal's consternation) because I need to report what I found.

The shield brothers head to the nearest inn. On our suggestions to avoid getting arrested before they can pay their fines, they ditched their armor and washed their face and hair, and we convinced them to avoid hiding their faces and be acceptably friendly. They should avoid detection long enough to cash in their stuff and pay off their bounties.

So, the report.

 _Upon our entrance to the Riverwood Trader, Camilla drops her bag with the claw without a second word and heads upstairs. Lucan doesn't mind and instead eyes our loot._

" _This_ is the great treasure?" Lucan sniffs disdainfully at the piece of rock table I had strapped to my back.

I chuckle. "And like five guys died for this, including Alvin." I shift the tablet's weight a little. "So, you want it?"

"Heavens no." Lucan smirks. "You can keep that disaster memorial and do whatever you want with it." He takes the Golden Claw from Camilla's bag and sets it back on the table. "And next time someone asks me what the Claw does for them, I'll just show them this." He takes

Oh when did she do that? That's pretty neat.

 _Lucan waves Arven's journal in our face and set it underneath the claw._

"The stories of a dead man." Lucan grins. "And the only thing to show for it was an old axe and a piece of rock."

"Maybe someone who knows something will pay for it?" I say (faux) hopefully.

"I wouldn't hold my breath." Lucan laughs at my (perceived) misfortune.

…

 _After that little meeting, we check in with Sven and Faendal (who were lollygagging outside the shop) and reassure them that Lucan was the one I talked to._

That took longer than the check in with Lucan, really.

Eventually though we were allowed to go on our way, and we rented another room for 10 gold to spend the night.

…

Come morning, there's a cart. With Camilla on it.

What gives?

 _The cart has some stuff on it, along with the SS brothers, Sven, and Faendal._

I think I see the SS Brothers' discarded armor.

"What's going on?" I ask upon getting within talking distance.

"Lucan wants me to sell some of this in Whiterun." Camilla says dismissively. "I'm also giving these people a ride, and the two blockheads are tagging along for the hell of it."

Sven and Faendal, I presume, are the blockheads. Also, I feel like her story's a cover for "we need to pawn the stuff we looted from dead people in a place further from here".

Still, free ride. "Nice. Can I come?"

"Feel free." Camilla welcomes us.

And so we got a ride to Whiterun, whoo!

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

Bleak Falls Barrow seems so much shorter in game.

May be because there's a skeleton section that's completely forgettable.

Except that one part where you drop a pot on the conveniently tutorializing trap, that part's cool.

Future forays into dungeons will not be as meticulously covered, if only because I am lazy.


	3. The Whiterun Smithing Experience (1)

{ === + === }

So the trip to Whiterun took us four days.

If memory serves, Alvor said the trip would be three days on foot.

We're on a cart.

So we should've gotten there faster.

 _What happened?_

Well.

Wolves.

So many goddamned wolves man I swear to god if I see another lupine creature I will skin the _fuck_ out of it

Every day, morning to night, we were stalked by multiple packs of wolves as we traveled the windy path down the hill towards Whiterun. Like the game, the path is windy and filled with blind spots like cliffs. Unlike the game, the path is unpaved in most places fuckin' looong.

And the forest wasn't sparse either, I mean…I got the feeling that if we went off the cobblestone path we very easily could have gotten lost. Makes me think that the linear distance from Whiterun to Riverwood is probably not that long, but what can you do.

Anyhoo, wolves.

We spent the first day crawling through the forest because the wolves just would not leave us alone. Eventually they attacked and we had to fight them off, which we did. Minor injuries all around except for the horse drawing the wagon, which got bit rather bad. We spent a day letting it rest so it'll heal properly.

"I can patch up its leg." Sven had sad after a round of lay on hands. "But if it puts its weight into its legs it'll break, and I'm not skilled enough to heal that."

Losing the horse would suck, hence, day of rest and more healing hands.

In a related note, skinning wolves for pelts was rather fun, if morbid.

Also in a related note, not sure if I like the taste of wolf meat. I feel, as a Chinese man, that I should avoid eating lupine products out a sense of, y'know, not contributing to stereotype.

In total we scored twenty extra wolf pelts to sell in market, and the extra wolf meat (which Faendal and the SS brothers cooked and smoked) were bonus rations.

I also kept the bones and teeth, because I think I can probably craft something out of them somehow.

So anyways, on day three we got underway again.

On Day three and a half we…erm.

So you know how wolves in game are basically fodder, until you get ice wolves, and then they'd kick your ass surprisingly hard?

Well here the monster list is a lot more…full.

Point being we saw what must've been a dire wolf, because it was easily as big as the horse hauling our wagon and it was _pissed off_ for some reason or other.

May be because of the skinned wolves, I dunno how fucking giant magic wolves operate.

The SS brothers rushed the thing and sent it away after a short scuffle (I don't think it was interested in a fight) and we came out of the woods constantly looking over our shoulders.

And then we walked into a Stormcloak/Imperial Legion skirmish, which was annoying.

There were about eight guys on each side and they were fighting over a farmhouse. I'm not sure what the logistics of this happen to be, since Whiterun is neutral and therefore the farmhouse would have been too, but it was a thing that happened. There wasn't anything like leadership in that scuffle, which…y'know, means it was probably a non-military skirmish.

In the end it was about even. Stormcloaks had 2 KIA and 3 wounded, and the Imperials had 3 KIA, 2 wounded. The Whiterun guard—mounted, all of them—charged down here and scattered the tussle.

They bade us good day and we went into Whiterun without further issues afterwards.

 _Why did we just blow through that?_

Because those random encounters had nothing to offer. We couldn't loot the dead Stormcloaks or Imperials with everybody judging us.

Anyhoo.

[Whiterun]

So…Whiterun.

It's a lot bigger than in-game. As expected, really.

It's too big for me to guess the population size, but if I had to ballpark, I'd say that 30,000 would be a good estimate.

Its defensive status is the same as the game: the walls are a bit under-maintained and low in some places, and the drawbridge leading into the city was erected over a river that was actually quite substantial. Falling into said river would hurt, and all that.

The land around Whiterun is covered in agriculture pursuits (farms, pastures, etc). Most of them have a house attached, suggesting small farmer ownership…farmers who live outside the town borders, anyways. By my best guess, the furthest farm from Whiterun's walls is about a two hour walk.

A few of the farms next to the walls were quite expansive and had no attached (large) living space, which makes me think that these farms are the ones that get marked on your map in-game. I don't remember their names because hoo-boy did I not care for them.

Um…

Right. The actual city.

 _Since we arrived much later than Aria, there was no guard to stop us from entering the city._

By all appearances the city seems to have resumed normal operation, assuming that they took special measures against a dragon to begin with.

The city itself though…

Um, how do I describe this…

Picture a phone's number pad, where 1 starts on the top left corner and ends at 9 on the bottom right in a three by three grid. Zero's beneath 8, and all that.

One would be the main entrance to the city. There are smaller entrances but we don't care about those at the present. It's very open, and is probably the mustering ground for when the levy need to be raised.

Zero would be Dragonsreach.

Four and seven are the areas with the shops you see in game.

Five is the area with the Big Tree (and What's-His-Face preaching constantly).

Six is rich people housing, basically.

Eight is the Cloud District.

Nine is the Companions and other guild services.

Now obviously I'm only marking down the parts I recognize. I've glazed over the other shops, residences, and services that exist in each of those zones for the sake of expediency. Also, obviously, the zones aren't _that_ cleanly divided, but this is a good place to start.

 _You seem to have missed two numbers._

Two and three are rather poor sectors. Like…actual, slummy, this-is-where-poor-people-live poor.

So, in a way, 2-3 are the low wealth areas, 4-7 are medium wealth areas, and 8-9-0 are high wealth areas, with 1 and 5 being neutral (makes sense, since one's military and the other's religious). And of course the entire area slopes upward towards Dragonsreach.

I'm gonna get a lot of cardio travelling this place, I can just tell.

 _After entering the town, we unload our stuff and visit a few general goods traders._

We pawn off everything we don't want (we as in the group in general) and we're all a little lighter of foot and heavier of wallet for it.

For me personally, I made about 200 gold after pawning everything I wanted to sell. Not a bad haul if I do say so myself.

I then promptly spent that gold on getting that spellbook identified…and on renting a spot in a warehouse for the large stone tablet.

 _The large warehouse is divided into smaller compartments, so it's not like we just chucked it in a spot in the corner or whatever._

It's waay too conspicuous to carry around, so I'll fetch it later when I have to. If it gets stolen…I'll still fetch it later, just with more blood involved.

The book, though.

It is a frostbite spellbook. Like, the ice version of Flames. That one. The one that's definitely not worth the 100 gold it took to identify it.

On the plus side it's not cursed or anything, so yay. I'll read it when I have time.

Following the shopping trip, we go our separate ways. The SS brothers made enough gold to pay off their bounty, and Team Riverwood is going to spend a day in Whiterun to party it up.

 _We respectfully decline because we're poor and need to look around the city._

For the time being, we limited our movement range within sectors 4 and 7 so as to save time. 2 and 3 are also too dangerous to just poke around, and we're not rich enough to Go To The Cloud District Very Often.

Anyhow, since I'm not sure how long I'll be in Whiterun, having a source of income would be nice.

Also I want to learn and abuse my crafting shenanigans.

…

 _After an hour of looking around and getting our bearings, we find Warmaiden's._

It's a little harder to find compared to the game, where it was pretty much the first thing you saw on the way in…but it's still pretty easy to find. Whiterun is just Fucking Huge™ at the moment.

I also found the Drunken Huntsman (the bow shop directly opposite of Warmaiden's).

 _How long did that take you?_

More than I care to admit, though to be fair there are more houses between the two shops than in game, where there were…uh, zero.

Anyway.

The shop is…probably a bit bigger than it is in game, I can't really make the comparison. She has all of her amenities outdoors (forge, smelter, grindstone, armor beating table) and is, indeed, talking with a man dressed in Imperial armor.

Unfortunately, since the roads are full of nonessential memory gobbling civilians, we don't hear their conversation. Though we could guess from the smith lady's body language that what was being asked of her was likely not to her liking.

 _We wait for the man in armor to go out of earshot before engaging._

I really wish I remembered her name. "Excuse me." I say politely.

"Yeah?" She's a bit less polite. "If you're looking to buy something, go inside." She says curtly and turn to her…um…wow that's a lot of swords.

Chance…except not. "I'm looking for someone to teach me a little smithing." Let's be honest about this. "And it looks like you can use an extra pair of hands."

"You're not wrong about that." Smith lady sighs in exasperation. "What's Battle-Born thinking, ordering that many swords on short notice?"

The door to Warmaiden's open and a big bear of a man comes out. I know who this is, and I also don't know who this is.

"We're not the only ones he's ordering from." Smith Lady's husband says and sees us. He offers a friendly handshake. "Ulfberth War-Bear, nice to meet you; and this is my wife and better half, Adrianne Avenicci."

I take the handshake. "Ash; pleased to meet you both."

Avenicci…Adrianne, immediately asks the obvious. "So you have no experience working with steel, and yet want to start by helping me on an order?" Also, she's gonna be Adrianne since 'Avenicci' is her Father and the Steward In Dragonsreach.

I nod. "I feel like as long as I'm not doing the actual sword crafting I should do just fine."

"And I feel like you're not good at thinking things through." Adrianne folds her arms and leans against one of her shop's wooden pillars.

"Who knows, maybe he'll do fine." Ulf…ok, no. War-Bear chuckles. "I think that kind of spirit should get a try, at least."

"Mhm." Adrianne grabs a…unbladed shortsword? It's just a sheet of steel. She tosses it my way. "Get your ass on the grindstone, let's see if you can follow orders." She says with a smirk.

Success! Thank you, someone else's marriage. "Aye aye."

…

 _With Adrianne's teaching, we put our labor into putting the edge into three short swords._

Sword one was a horrific failure. I put too much stress on it (or something) and it snapped in half.

"Good thing that was a failed piece." Adrianne says after some time dressing us down. "Or else I'd be charging you."

Sword two was…ok. I don't think I put enough pressure on it so the blade ended up not holding much of an edge.

"Good enough to cut butter, if you had a year to spend on such a strenuous task." Adrianne had commented.

Sword three was juuust right. I'll call it Goldilocks.

"Not bad." Adrianne gave her assessment after our thirty minutes of instruction-following. "Good, now do the rest of them." She gestures to a pile of edge-less swords.

It…I thought it was a pile of scrap metal just lying next to the shop.

Huh.

"Have fun." War-Bear says with a grinning smirk and I'm now very sure the only reason he supported me was to foist off this work on me.

 _As if to hammer the point home, he raises a mug to our endeavors and slink back into the store._

Son of a bitch. Thank you for getting my foot through the door, but son of a bitch all the same.

"He's a sly one." Adrianne smirks at her shop's closed door. "Now get to it."

…

…

…

 _We spend the rest of the day sharpening swords._

Adrianne sometimes sharpens, sometimes crafts. She has the harder job by far.

Still, I think I got pretty decent after the tenth sword or so. I can't really describe the methodology since it feels more…innate, rather than learned.

Yay for the perk, I guess?

Either way, according to what the Imperial army's armament requirements, they want their swords to have slightly broader edges in favor of a stabbier point.

 _Broader edges and finer point compared to a stock "Nord" steel sword._

As for the crafting itself, once in a while I'd feel really good about a sword, and I think the resulting weapon would have a better finish than normal. Again, putting this down to the crafting perk's effect.

…the sword itself didn't look any different, and I can't just look at it and go "yep, this one's (Superior), good work" which is a bit sad. Hopefully I'm not full of shit and the swords are actually good.

Anyhoo…

We're getting paid for this tomorrow, if the swords are of an acceptable quality and the shipment gets accepted.

 _Shouldn't we be getting paid for our time spent?_

You'd think so, but if the shipment is considered too low quality she'd have to spend time to fix the mistakes, which would be bad, and cut into her profits. Also she's basically doing us a favor, so I didn't want to push the issue too hard.

Either way, experience…experience…

 _We find our way into an inn, order some food, and take a table in the corner of the room._

Ok. Status.

 _Poof. We study as we eat._

Mm…skills in the body tree (the one with breathing, walking, etc.) all changed in some ways.

Crafting though…sewing, tailoring, small-object-making (cloth)…

…this is a very finely divided down tree. Wow.

…Ah ha.

"Imperial Short Sword Upgrading", with an illegible hex graph.

…but this means that I've only trained the ability to upgrade that specific weapon.

Yikes, does that mean I only get better making dragon armor if I make multiple suits of dragon armor?

…no, no, not quite.

It looks like the short sword upgrading skill bled into other forms of short sword upgrading. To a lesser extent it also bled into short sword crafting (and even less into other forms of weapon crafting).

I can't read by how much, but by virtue of there being a smaller hex compared to ISSU, which has a bigger hex, I assume there has been experience spillover. Fuck this UI.

The steel used in imperial swords is considered "Imperial Steel" and also bleeds into working with steel, other materials, so on, so forth…my fucking god this tree is dense.

What else?

…? I have…3 skill points.

So I levelled? Does level exist? Can I see my vitals?

…no? Have I tried this before?

Oh well.

Still…three skill points, huh? Hmm…

So…do I wanna be a crafting munchkin, or do I want actual combat performance?

…or do I go for leadership and run parties of companions rather than do the hard work myself?

I mean, given how Skyrim works getting into fights is basically going to be a given, and if I keep spelunking or something I'm going to need something to fall back on.

…or I can go full America Mode and have the best equipment available.

Decisions, decisions…

…Well, for starters, I need to eat and a place to live, so I need money. In that respect, I should hone what I'm good at, which is crafting.

Let's see then…

 _We sift through skills related to tailoring, smithing, and carpentry. And maybe alchemy._

 _After some time…_

Ok, I've decided on two skills. I'll leave the last point free for the time being.

First is: Reinforcement (Tailor). Like the name suggests, it's a tailoring skill that "makes items crafted through tailoring stronger". Given the lack of specifics I assume the bonus is somewhat random and (maybe) scales with my skill level, whatever that may be.

Second is: Replacement. It's basically fallout's repair mechanic, where you can sacrifice weapons of a same time to make another weapon more workable. It's also a bit like fallout 4's weapon customization mechanic, where you can swap weapon parts to make them different. In my case, it means I can retrofit equipment with better material…which in itself isn't really a feat or anything. As far as I can tell, this skill just makes it so that I will never fail a replacement job…within limits, I think. I don't know what those limits currently are.

 _Disclaimer: we don't actually know how it works and are thus guessing to the best of our ability._

I wish I had more detail on these two skills, but for now they seem like good picks.

 _I think we can safely assume that we picked two durability-extending skills._

I mean…I'm poor, and poor people make do with what they have, which generally involves repairing rather than creating.

I'm totally going to reinforce a wallet so hard it'll stand up to dragon breath, though.

Like "hey I know you're a firebreathing badass and all that but look at how much rule screwing my money can do"

 _And then you can happily burn to a crisp afterwards._

Yep. I might wanna seriously examine the feasibility of making all my stuff fireproof, though.

…Well, that comes later.

 _We finish our meal, buy a bed, and go to sleep._

 _…_

[Next Day, Third Person Camera]

 _Note: for the purposes of this story Skyrim smithing time is not as long as real life smithing time, though it's definitely more than 'instant'. We blame the Fire Salts._

The person requisitioning swords from Adrianne, Idolaf Battle-Born, went to pick up his shipment from Warmaiden's on the morning.

He had placed the order more than a month ago, and had become a little…agitated, waiting for the finished goods. The Battle-Borns were not making this delivery as a donation; they had a contact with the Imperial Legion that had hinted at arms shortages in the southern legion near Markarth, and were requisitioning gear from anywhere they can.

Hence, Idolaf figured he could capitalize on the issue, support the cause he believed in, and make a decent penny from it, too. He placed orders within all smiths in Whiterun (except for the ones controlled by house Gray-Mane) for a grand total of 1000 swords. If that order wasn't fulfilled fast enough, the chance to deliver would disappear, and he'd be stuck with boxes of swords and no way to turn a profit on them.

Giving 200 to Adrianne might have been too much, but it never hurt to show favoritism towards the daughter of the city's Steward. The smith in question might not have called it favoritism, but Idolaf doesn't sweat that kind of details.

Regardless, she finished her job with distinction, and now Idolaf was going to collect with a bit of a spring in his step.

He arrives at Warmaiden's with a team of twenty men in tow, all carrying baskets of wood, leathers, and straps. They attracted a few stares on their jaunt through the town, and some of them were now curiously peering after the entourage through the shop's windows.

"Hello, Adrianne. Ulfberth." He greets the couple upon entering their shop. "Fine day for business."

"Hello, Idolaf." Ulfberth replies politely and brings up four crates of naked swords from behind the store counter. He sets them on the counter with a light 'oof'. "Fine day for business." He chuckles.

"I have your swords right here." Adrianne taps the crates. "But the Empire will have to sheathe them itself."

"That's fine." Idolaf had no issues with Adrianne keeping her name from being recognized as an imperial supplier—though her skill makes herself known in her work anyway. "Do you mind if I check them?"

"Go right ahead." Adrianne says without any care.

Idolaf doesn't doubt her skill, but he has been working with the lesser known smiths, and…well, they're not all that good. He picks a sword from one of the crates and gives it a test swing. It feels strong and supple, the distinguished mark of Adrianne's handiwork.

 _Some of the onlookers, a pair of small children (6 years old or so) gasp and giggle and mimic his action with twigs of their own._

Idolaf nods in satisfaction and hands the sword over to one of his men. The young man sets down his carried materials, measure the sword, and get to work crafting a simple sheath out of wood and leather.

"I _really_ wish you wouldn't do that inside our shop." Ulfberth says with a light laugh. He does, however, go to the back room and take out little stools for the team of workers, so they can sit and focus on their work without worrying about bruising their rears on the stone floor.

With a nod of thanks, Idolaf continues to pass swords from the crates to his workers. He takes test swings with the occasional piece, until he clears the first and second crates.

 _Some of the onlookers, definitely curious, have wandered into the shop. A few crafters overlook the young men building sheaths and give them a few tips here and there. Others leave, having to attend to their own duties._

Idolaf's hand reaches into the third crate and stop.

Ulfberth notes the frown on his brow. "Something wrong?" He asks.

Idolaf shakes his head slightly and pick the sword out from the rest. The hilt presented strange feeling that he couldn't identify, and he examined the sword with a much keener eye.

"We had some outside help with these swords." Ulfberth explains. "Some of these may be from the well-meaning greenhorn. He put the edges on them."

"Is that so?" Idolaf says distractedly, his attention still focused on the strange sword. He gives himself a little more space to swing the weapon, squares his shoulders, and gives the sword a proper Battle-Born swing.

 _Whatever that may be._

He _definitely_ felt something. He gives the sword a second swing, then a third…but he doesn't feel it anymore.

"There's something…strange, about this weapon." Idolaf says cautiously and pass it onto a worker. "Give it special care." He orders. The worker nods and sets about building the sheath while also taking out some strand silver to adorn the sheathe when it is complete.

"I don't believe that sword was finished by a greenhorn." Idolaf explains with a slight quiver of joy in his voice. "You've outdone yourself, Warmaiden Adrianne."

 _The peanut gallery gasps softly, with a little bit of polite, "I don't want to be in the way" clapping._

"Thank you for the compliment, but I do believe that the honors go to the greenhorn." Adrianne says warmly, but firmly. "My works are sturdy and rugged, with no tricks behind them."

Idolaf doesn't really care. Since the person who put the edge on the blade was a novice working under Adrianne, and Adrianne has no apprentices at the moment, it follows that he was new, unskilled, and worked entirely within the bounds of the advice she gave.

 _Which was indeed the case._

Thus, if the blade was finished in such a way that he can't discern the difference between master and student, isn't that a reflection on the skills of the master? On how well the master can instruct her students? And, of course, a master who readily gives away accolades to its earner instead of greedily taking it for herself is to be respected as a woman of strong morals, and stronger ethics.

But _god damn_ that was a good feeling sword.

Now, rather eagerly, Idolaf gave each sword a test swing. Once in a while, he'd get that strange feeling in his hands, and the sword that caused it was given the preferential treatment of a better-looking sheath.

 _The peanut gallery, now visibly charged, followed Idolaf's expression with a slight titter every time he found one such sword._

Uldberth made a mental note to see if he can keep this greenhorn—whoever he was—around for a bit longer. Unusual skill like that was good for business, and better he than his competitors, right?

With the discovery of these 'special weapons', the entire process of sheathing the swords became something more than just a task. Subtly, the workers competed with each other to make the best sheaths, so when one such specialties appeared, they would be the one to receive and put their mark upon it in the form of signing the sheathes in some rather conspicuous places.

Though most people agreed that Idolaf was probably overreacting; the workers themselves didn't feel anything odd from putting their hands on the weapons.

Soon, Idolaf ran low on the amount of swords. Feeling like the specials were finally over (he hasn't gotten one in, like, twenty swords), he rather lazily picked up the second to last sword in the box. He closes his hand around the hilt, and he takes a sharp draw of breath.

Uldberth, hearing this, looks up to see beads of sweat begin to form on Idolaf's forehead. As he watched, Idolaf picks up the completely nondescript sword with an almost reverential air.

This sword…it felt different. It didn't feel like it had been done the same way as the others. It felt…

Idolaf, while never exactly a devout follower of the eight, paid his respects to the gods. He knew—but never believed—that disturbing their sacred areas would lead to punishment. With this sword in his hand, he had the distinct feeling that he was now able to truly describe the idea of sacrilege.

Just holding this sword feels wrong for some reason. Like…it was made for someone, and he was not that someone. And the divines would smite the _shit_ out of him for having the gall to lay his hands on this blade.

Shaking off the (admittedly absurd) feeling, he swallows, squares his shoulders, and gives the sword a swing.

Everyone in the room, who had stopped their work to observe Idolaf getting yet another sword boner (9th one so far), distinctly heard the soft, otherworldly hum that seemed to come from the blade.

 _Various mutations of "holy fucking shit" were uttered in hushed tones._

In the silence, Idolaf clears some room, readies the weapon, and enters into a Battle-Born weapon training routine. He makes clear, wide swings, short thrusts, defensive parries, countering swings against an imaginary enemy. He acts with practice and experience, each move going exactly as far as it should and no further, holding each stance for as long as he should, and no longer.

And each time his weapon moved, it emitted that same, ringing hum.

When Idolaf finished his dance, the silence was changed somehow, as if everyone in attendance was entranced.

"I…I can't take this weapon." Idolaf says with a cracking voice, surprised at how loud he sounded. He coughs and tries again. "I can't take this weapon."

"What's wrong with it?" Adrianne asks in faux-steadiness. She had a pretty good guess given his performance.

"This sword…this was meant for someone, or something." Idolaf replies in a tone that was almost reverential. "And I'm not that person. Georg."

One of the younger workers shoot up to his feet. "Yes, sir?"

"Alert Alena and tell her to get the workshop ready." Idolaf orders him. "And bring the finest silk we have on your way back."

Alena is a master craftswoman of a carpentry/jewelry variety. She is also a retainer of House Battle-Born, and is specifically consulted for jobs of an extremely important nature. Reason being: she has her own workshop and takes orders just like any other craftsperson (albeit with a high asking price), and even if the asker is the head of the Battle-Born, they better have a damn good reason to tell her to clear her place.

Thus it is perfectly understandable that Georg walked out of her shop (The Silver Hammer) with a bruised forehead. He silently accepts that it could have been worse than the incomplete jewelry box she tossed at his head.

She must've been surprised at the order too, he thinks, and goes home to the mansion for some silk.

…

[1st Person Camera]

It's now noon.

I spent the morning looking around the city to get my bearings a little better, and…

I don't think I fully understood how…widespread, the Battle-Born and Grey-Mane family influences were in Whiterun. There are entire blocks of the city cordoned off entirely for just them, and judging by the look of foot traffic, simply being endorsed by either of the two families will get you a shitton of money.

…Of course, the traffic is exclusively tied to one section of the city (either the BB or GM side), and there are increased odds of problems occurring if they're together, but eh…

 _We think this as we watch a young Battle-Born and a young Grey-Mane duke it out in front of a tavern. Its less "Romeo against Tybalt" and more "Capulet Extra A versus Montague Hired Hand Number 26"._

…but overall it's probably worth it if you know how to spin their rivalry to your advantage. Hmm.

So with that establishing information out of the way, I found my way into a general goods store (The "Happy Merchant") and bought some more cloth, and got to do a little more sewing.

I just realized that I now have the power to add lacy fucking frills on everything I put my hands on.

…I just need a pretty woman who has enough unwavering trust in me to put on the lace-poisoned article of clothing.

 _Good luck with that._

No kidding. If the companions you can mod into Skyrim knew what the players were doing to them they'd kill the Dragonborn on sight.

…or is it just me that use those kinds of mods?

Anyways, the cloth is a bit coarse but it's durable, and I'm pretty tired of wearing this stupid sack-like tunic.

So let's make something I can wear.

 _An hour later…_

I…

I think this is a scarf?

Maybe?

If I turn my head?

 _We turned some of our cloth into a longer piece of cloth._

…Silver lining, the stitching work to meld the strips of cloth together is _impeccable._ It's too bad the entire thing doesn't do anything.

Onwards!

 _Two hours later._

…well I learned to make laces. I guess.

 _We turn our handiwork over, examine it in detail, and frown._

This is a lacy…wrist…band? I think? I salvaged the materials I just wasted, so it's like a triple layer wristband. It's very…coarse.

…Can I learn skills to refine clothing? Because I would love to have a nice, thick cotton shirt for when we invariably go up to Windhelm or something.

Hmm.

Onwards!

 _Three hours later._

Ooh ok this is a pair of lacy panties we are not showing this to anyone ever

 _Three hours and five minutes later_

I should note that I was trying to make a glove.

 _In some ways, you succeeded. Three hours and ten minutes later._

And it's wasn't even silky negligee either. Like…it's shitty fabric beaten into the form of seductive underwear. It's probably waay too uncomfortable to wear. Like if you wore paper towels around your privates.

…I need to hire a young woman.

 _Sketchy-as-fuck comment of the day._

No kidding.

 _Four hours later._

Ok! This is not bad.

My finished product _is_ pretty bad, but the past four hours has taught me a lot.

First: never trust my instincts. Going by the look of this travesty of a learning experience, if I try to make a piece through the use of the perk (so without any input of my own) I will quickly veer off and attempt to create a random item that I can make with the materials I am currently using.

So, for example, if I were to try and make a piece of clothing with two pieces of leather, trying to do it by perk means I make two items out of one piece of leather each. Which isn't all that useful, all things considered.

Thus, if I want to make something specific, I need to apply myself to it, get to…about the 60 percent mark? And then let the perk take over for small sections at a time.

Or else make small changes as the work go on. Either way, I can't just let my bullshit perk powers handle the workload for me.

Also, I got another skill point!

I'll hold on to it for the time being because I don't have any pressing needs. I'm not much of the "I have a build from the start" type of person. Except when it comes to Stealth Archer.

…I should go Stealth Archer.

 _Have you no shame, sir? Also, what is your finished product?_

Right. My finished product is a simple collarless long-sleeved shirt. No frills, no extras…not very good either, but it's better than this ragged piece of burlap sack I'm wearing.

 _We change in the middle of the street._

Oooh my god this feels so much better. I feel so much _richer,_ too.

…though I can't say I'm very fond of the drab olive coloring.

…It's the afternoon now, so maybe we should go check and see if we're gonna get paid today.

 _We collect our stuff, collect our bearings, and find our way into Warmaiden's._

…? Who's the kid?

 _We catch Georg just as he returns with his thing of silk. He barges his way past a gaggle of people gathered around the shop's front door._

…did…I'm at the right place, right?

Now that I'm feeling a little confused, so let's stick around for a little bit longer to see what happens.

 _So we do. After a few minutes, Georg comes back out with something wrapped around in silk._

I think it's a sword. Is this common?

 _Some of the civilians walking the streets had stopped and stared when Georg showed up with silk, because it's not exactly a common thing to be walking the streets with. Their staring didn't decrease any when he walked out with the sword. Some of them tailed him for a few steps until he went upstairs into the rich people section._

Hmm. So what was that all about?

 _We knock politely and step into Warmaiden's premises._

Uh…huh.

There are nineteen guys sitting on stools, making sheaths for swords. Is this normal?

Uldbear is—wow it's been less than 24 hours and I've already forgotten his name—Uldbear War Bear is manning the counter, with Adrianne and the old guy in Imperial Armor standing around…is the old guy crying?

Did I walk in on something?

"There he is." Uldbear grins upon seeing us. "Idolaf, this is Ash. Ash, this is Idolaf Battle-Born, the man you were working for." He introduces.

Ok… "Nice to meet you." I bow slightly. "What…uh…what was that all about?" I gesture to the open door.

"It seems that Idolaf here took a liking to the piece you finished." Adrianne says lightly. "He's taking possession of it."

Idolaf is…appraising me. Going by his eyebrows, he doesn't like what he sees.

"You see to be far too young to have created such a skilled piece." He says after a fashion. "I'm surprised."

I think he's talking about the one that came out really well. "I was surprised too. That was a happy accident, I think."

"Hm." Idolaf hums. He's thinking of something. "I'm interested." He says after a few seconds of confused silence. "I'm going to commission a sword for myself." He stares us straight in the eyes. "And you're going to make it."

Ahahahaha "Sir that is a terrible idea." I say quickly. "I have yet to handle making a sword."

"Now you have a chance." Idolaf says lightly. "Adrianne, I'll buy 1000 gold worth of materials. Give it to Young Ash here and teach him how to craft a good sword."

Um. "Well, if you're paying for my privilege, I'll do my best." I bow. "Do you have any specific requirements?"

"Give me something that suits me." He says with finality.

Ok, but the entire point of me asking was because I wanted to know what would suit you.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

And thus starts the non-combat section.


	4. The Whiterun Smithing Experience (2)

{ === + === }

 _Some ten minutes later._

…Hoo boy, this has turned into something fierce. Ok.

 _We're out by the shop's smelter with Adrianne and Idolaf._

"Idolaf isn't one for frills." Adrianne instructs me. "And he won't take anything that's not good Imperial Steel." She snaps her fingers.

War-Bear brings around a trolley of…rocks.

I'm guessing that's ore.

Adrianne has a small smirk playing on her face. "We're going to have you start from scratch." She glances at Idolaf. "To be honest, 1000 gold isn't enough for a good sword, especially if I have to teach you how to make it on top of that."

How sly.

Idolaf shrugs. "If the end product is good, I don't mind covering the difference."

Huh. Does that mean he's here just to see what I can do?

 _Or else he's taking the cost as headhunting._

That's true too…if I live up to his expectations then I get to be indicted into clan Battle-Born, or something.

Well…for the time being, let's focus on doing my job right.

 _Adrianne escorts us to the smelter in earnest. It's very hot._

…so we really do have to start from the very beginning.

Alright then, let's do this.

 _She shows us how to work the smelter. Most of it requires getting the smelter to be hot and continue to be hot._

It's…um…very not-involved. I feel like there may be a little magic involved with the smelter, but since I know nothing about Earth Smelting I probably shouldn't judge. Still…we can rig the system with our Skill Points, so let's totally do that and have zero shame in developing hitherto undiscovered talents.

 _We burn our skill point to take Refining Mastery._

The perk increases the amount of ingots we get from refining as well as the quality. I think this perk also passively makes the smelter hotter, too.

 _Fuckin' Fire Salts, man._

I think Adrianne was a little confused when we ended up with one more Iron Ingot than she had expected.

 _She confiscated it after we got it._

Sad, really.

Anyhoo, after following Adrianne's instructions for an hour and then working on our own for two and a half more (because she still needs to run a business), we come out with around 20 Iron Ingots and 30 Steel Ingots for a total of 55.

We're going to use Iron to learn to forge a sword, and then almost all of the steel to learn to work with steel. In effect, we get 2 chances at making the actual sword.

 _55?_

5 of the ingots are "Refined Steel" ingots, and they're earmarked for the final crafting process. I may be shooting myself in the foot with using different material before practicing with it, but the steel is about 90% similar so it should be fine.

 _There is absolutely no basis for us believing that the steel is 90% similar. How did we get this 'refined steel' anyway?_

As it turns out, the Replacement perk could be used during smelting as well. In this case, it lets me re-forge an ingot and exchange it for a definitely superior result…so long as I clearly define what I want the result to be (and actively work towards it). In the case of 'replacing' steel, I replaced impurities within the steel with carbon.

Now, I don't have the type of bullshit vision to tell that the atomic makeup of the steel has changed, but I can tell that the refined steel feel better in my hands than the non-refined one. Based on that, I assume mission success.

Now, the hard part.

…Actually not quite the hard part, since Adrianne has some other duties to attend to. So I'll be coming back tomorrow. She's reserving the forge all day for the teaching/training job.

So I have to find something else to do for the few hours until nighttime.

…Let's learn us some alchemy!

 _We go looking for an alchemy shop._

In order to dodge the handful of people tailing us because they were curious, we find a back alley shop that looks reasonably upstanding (read: no blood) and slip inside.

...well.

 _We take stock of the place._

This place is frightfully bare. There exists no counter, the amount of materials in here is practically nonexistent (based on what I can see at a glance), and…

 _We stoop to give the ground a better look._

…this place has been abandoned for some time. No footsteps on the ground besides ours.

There _is_ a stairway going upwards, so let's go that way and have a look-see.

 _We go upstairs._

The upstairs is basically just an attic…makes sense, this building was pretty small from the outside. There's a bed, cabinet, and chest…and no privacy whatsoever.

Also there are no people here.

Next…

 _We look around some more._

…ah ha, there's a trap door downwards.

 _So we go down._

Mm…I miss conveniently lit torches. I really do.

 _We keep the trap door open for some light._

The basement is small and short. It's probably smaller than the house's floor area. It, like the above level, is also dreadfully barren. There are a few boxes littered here and there, but that's about it.

…so…am I squatting? Is that what's gonna happen? Are we gonna pull a Morrowind and just take over an abandoned dwelling?

 _We climb out of the basement and return to the main floor._

The basement isn't even that deep either. If the ladder wasn't there I could just pull myself out of it, no problem.

 _We're about six feet tall. The basement is five foot deep._

Not a very large storage spot, that's for sure.

Anyhoo…let's take stock and see what we can use in here.

 _We scurry around for twenty minutes._

…It's very difficult to get a feel of what's in here when everything looks like some kind of grass. I need someone to teach me.

 _We hear the doorway of the shop open._

Huh.

 _We stand in plain view of whoever is entering and make absolutely no effort to defend ourselves._

And then we die like a dumbass.

…What? I'm totally dead. Like, super, duper, this commentary is just in your

 _Joke's gone stale._

Bah.

The entrant is likely the owner of...the…shop…?

…Did Aria get her hair dyed? And get shorter?

 _The (likely) shop owner who has entered the scene is carrying a basket of herbs and flowers and such. Upon seeing us standing in the middle of the store, she stops, frowns at us, and then shuts the door behind her with her foot._

"Who are you?" She asks, confused.

"A probable customer." I reply, also confused. "Do you run this place?"

S…the fuck is she doing

 _She seems to take special relish in the idea that she actually runs this place. Judging by the look on her face, she's gone off somewhere into her imaginations._

Once more with feeling: the fuck? "Oy." I say rudely.

She 'sees' us again, draws herself to her full height, and with the most confident and self-assured tone in her voice, declares that "Yes, I _do_ run this place."

 _Her full height is, at best, five feet tall._

As far as other physical characteristics go…slightly-mane-y red hair that goes to her neck…it looks very fluffy from here. Dirty working clothes (heavy full length dress), she's been out in the field, no surprises there…not much visible muscle mass to speak of, and a very Aria-like presence.

'Aria-like' in the sense that she looks like a doll. Judging by her previous reaction, I'm going to go on a limb and guess that she's quite new at all of this.

"This shop doesn't seem like it's very…popular." I say slowly.

"It's because I only recently moved in." The girl replies in a huff, obviously offended. She wears her heart on her sleeve it seems. "I'll make it huge in two weeks." She says firmly.

Hmm. "Recently? How recently?"

"Well, like…erm." Her eyes dart around. "Like a week ago." She…lies. Very badly at that.

…let's let that slide, shall we? "Are you an alchemist?" I ask politely.

She puffs up again. If her hand were free I would bet money they'd be perched confidently on her hips. Like…full bravado pose, or something.

She's incredibly easy to read. I feel sorry now.

She then puffs down again. "Kind of." She admits. "I only recently learned how."

…how old are you?

 _We ask that._

"I'm sixteen. Why?" She glares at me.

Huh. "You have your own shop at sixteen? I'm impressed." I'm genuinely surprised.

…in the same vein, how old are we?

 _Ash is 25, Jake is 28, and Aria is 20._

Cool.

 _Upon us being surprised at this girl's proprietary prowess, she gets a prideful look on her face again._

"B-of course!" She puffs up again, too. "I'm a prodigy, after all!"

…so I can't learn from her, basically. Well, having a friend around isn't bad. "Nice. So what do you make?"

"Mostly drinks." She puffs down again. "I can make potions too!" She says in a whiny tone.

Drinks, huh? "Cool. What kind of potions?"

"Erm." She starts to lie again. "Good ones."

 _We blink and sigh at the terrible and completely unnecessary lie._

…oh my lord. I want out of this conversation. "You seem nice. I'll visit again some time." I have zero faith in my ability to remember this place on the map.

"Sure, sure." She sets down her basket of herbs and begins to sort them. "Come spend some money some time."

 _She sounds a bit hurt._

…well now I feel guilty. "Are you willing to part with some of your herbs?"

 _We spend about ten gold on some fluffy cotton._

She tried _so hard_ to talk up the cotton that I couldn't refuse.

 _So basically her haggling was so bad it spun right around and became good again?_

Yeah, basically.

 _…now the big question. On the scale of "Vanilla Skyrim" to "Modded (Female) Character", where is she?_

She falls heavily into the modded spectrum, which…I guess isn't all that weird.

Hang on.

 _We take the rest of our daylight hours lollygagging around the temple district._

If I went into the Cloud District and just wandered around, I would be detained, so we're not doing that.

Still, it seems that my suspicions were confirmed.

As a general rule of thumb, the rich tend to be more 'Modded In', while the poor tend to be more 'Skyrim Vanilla'. Of the people that I've seen from the Cloud District and the richer quarters, all of them tend to be very well dressed, and many of them have physical features that imply a life of relative comfort…generally to the tune of a little fairer skin.

Life in Skyrim is still pretty rough, so the whole Fat Nobility thing is nonexistent…but I think we can be pretty sure that, if you're pretty, you're rich.

…I feel very sad now.

Either way, this means that the girl and Aria came from reasonably wealthy families, or at least had lives in places where things were not so harsh.

Aria can be excused as being, y'know, the Dragonborn.

So what's That Girl's story?

 _You never got her name?_

…no, not really.

 _As expected of us, really…so what of her other traits?_

Unusually large bust size for her height, very pretty eyes…and, going by our previous exchange, probably more than just a little too optimistic when it comes to life.

…though I get the feeling any lady raised in wealth is probably not as shockingly optimistic as she was.

 _Is that just a polite way of saying 'air-headed'?_

…yes.

Anyway, we spent our time people watching (and woodcarving) so it's dark now.

After meeting the pretty girl I didn't really have the heart to sew. Every time I tried her chest popped up in my head and it just felt _really_ dirty.

 _So we're rubbing our wood instead._

…

Ok you know what fuck you inner self

ANYWAY I figured learning carpentry would help when we invariably make the switch to stealth archer and need to make our own kickass bows.

So I'm learning by vigorously rubbing small wood before moving onto bigger ones.

Har har it's another penis joke

I've spent my time so far whittling down branches to see just how thin I can get it before it breaks. I'm not very good at this, so they break relatively early. Still, I earned enough experience for one more skill point.

Which, of course, I'm holding onto for tomorrow.

 _So with that, we buy some food at the same place we frequented last night._

…?

It's the girl from before. Was she here last night? Her hair is really noticeable.

 _She was, though the active mind never noticed since he was too busy playing with his status screen._

…judging by the way people move around her, she has a reputation but is not particularly popular.

Hmm.

"Yo, Gramps." We ask the old man (Nord) sitting at our table (uninvited). "Who's the redhead?"

He follows our line of sight to see who we're talking about. "Oh, Meek?"

The fuck kind of name is Meek? "Meek?"

"Yeah." The old Nord smirks. "Just look."

 _We watch the poor girl get pushed around a bit by a group of drunk folk._

Meek in the sense that she's basically backed down on every confrontation so far…yeah, sure, I guess. "But why the nickname?"

"Because she'll do anything if you push her for it." The Old Nord says with visible distaste. "Damn girl has no backbone."

…worrying. Also not really my problem.

Plus, I know I've seen brothels littered around Whiterun. If the patrons around here really wanted to get laid…they'd just go there. Less odds of getting your ass kicked by the barkeep, too.

 _'Meek' gets pushed into singing a tune. She can't really carry a tune. Not "wild dogs invade Whiterun" kind of incompetent, mind, just a little below average._

"Hmph." Old Nord doesn't approve.

 _He catches our frown._

"It is unbecoming of a resident of Skyrim to simply do as someone else asks." Old Nord explains with just a little bit of derisiveness. "Especially for a woman."

I guess. I haven't been here long enough to pick up on their customs or whatever.

…though I do agree that the sight of this girl doing as she's told is quite distasteful. Also I think I see where the Stormcloak spirit came from.

 _We watch her badly sing some more tunes._

I should note: she's basically bending to the will of a group of maybe five people, tops. They seem to make it their business to humiliate the poor girl for their own amusement, to the immense displeasure of everybody else. The room temperature dropped when they started.

But the reason why people are turning a blind eye? She's getting paid.

So…yeah. It sucks, but technically she is roping herself into this, which is why though everybody's annoyed, nobody's stepping up.

…Hmm.

 _We go into our status window._

…

…ah ha.

I'll be blowing my skill point for "melee foresight." An actual combat perk.

 _It feels a little cowardly to take a perk and then pick a fight._

Victory above all else.

 _The girl gets roped into playing an instrument. But before she can start…_

"I think that's far enough." I say clearly and loudly. Her warbling did manage to keep the entire place quiet, so that's a plus. "You're killing the mood in here, gentlemen."

"Go back to your sewing." The lead of the men waves me off, to the laughter of his compatriots.

I wasn't sewing.

 _It's more about your appearance than your job._

Oh right. "I would, but the lot of you are ruining the peace and quiet." I have no business trying to intimidate, since I don't have the voice for it. "Why don't you go roll with the dogs and pretend to be the big men you think you are." So we default to 'taunt'.

"Oh really?" Asshole Leader smirks. "Who's going to make us?"

Hmm…

 _We pick up a piece of meat from our plate and toss it at him. It lands at his feet with a wet-sounding slap that seems to resound through the now silent room._

I smile. "Run along now."

I have basically just picked a fight.

 _The asshole party stands up and walks menacingly towards our table._

No drawing swords, this is a barfight.

 _We stand._

…ooh, here it comes.

 _We feel, rather than see, the punch coming towards our face._

I think I'm about half a second ahead.

 _We duck and counter with a palm strike at the man's chin._

Good to see my human world skills carry over a little.

Our hit is far too shallow, and he only staggers back.

 _With an extremely loud yell that feels like it shouldn't come from someone as weedy as we are, we slam our fist into Asshole Leader's abdomen along with a strong step onto the ground._

He's pretty tough. My hand hurts. I think I hurt my hand more than I hurt his sternum. Ow.

"You shithead!" Asshole Leader snarls from three paces back. "Get him!"

"Uh-uh-uh." Old Nord interrupts. "Fights are one-on-one." He smirks. "If you want to brawl, though…" He gestures to the rest of the inn.

Asshole leader grits his teeth and bumrushes us.

Let's make this one stick.

 _We cross counter his charge with the strongest punch to his chin that we can manage._

He goes down like a sack of terrible potatoes. It _really_ helps when the other side is only good at brawling.

I grin. "Next." Have to make a good first impression!

 _We do the whole "beckoning with hand" thing, too._

…not keen to spend their time fighting, the rest of the asshole brigade hauls their leader to his feet and they make themselves scarce.

 _For our troubles, our bed for the night is free._

Yay…though the girl is suddenly nowhere to be seen.

Oh well.

…

[Next morning]

…

Our breakfast was free too. Neat!

 _With our hurried breakfast, we go to Warmaiden's to get our training in._

"About time." Adrianne smirks upon our arrival. "I thought the Forge was going to freeze."

We take the ribbing in good humor and get to business.

[Morning to Noon]

We manage to craft two swords in five attempts.

Three obviously were failures, in such spectacular ways that Adrianne was impressed. In the same way that you're impressed that a garbage fire can glow green, but impressed nonetheless.

 _We do recycle failures back to raw material, though the recovery rate is less than half._

As long as it's not zero I'm happy.

The two trainee works—Iron swords, both of them—were deemed good enough to finish, so we did.

 _Thoughts?_

Mm…they feel shoddy. Like, really shoddy. I can't quite explain it yet.

 _We break for lunch and then continue onwards._

[Noon to Dusk]

Five successes out of seven, and I'm out of Iron.

Three are 'bad' works, and two are 'decent' works.

We've put edges on all of them, and War-Bear gives them a whack on some wooden training dummies.

…ooh. Ew.

The three bad works practically shatter on impact. The two shoddy works (from the morning batch) dig into the dummies but lose their edge almost immediately. We can see sparks of iron flaking off of the blade…yikes.

The two decent works do fine for a few hits, but quickly bends and becomes unusable.

"Good progress." Adrianne remarks. "At least they held for a few hits."

We smelt down the failed products to more Iron ingots (taking care to Replace them with higher concentrations of iron).

Mm…still, not a good showing for the first day.

 _We retire to our inn for the night to plan for the next day._

While making those swords, I felt as if the benefit being given by the Perk was being actively counteracted by…something. I don't really know what it was, but every time it flared up I'm sure the end process suffered.

Putting that aside, I'm sure we made tremendous progress for someone who's never crafted a sword before.

I got 4 skill points! That's as many as four ones!

 _And…that's…terrible?_

That's a very dated joke, no? Anyways, we're taking…uh…

Steelworking (for better steel working), Swordcraft Mastery (for making better swords), Weaponsmithing Mastery (for better weapon making)…and we're keeping the last point free again.

I'm obviously trying to improve my chances of making fine swords here. I hope it…

 _We hear a knock on our door. We're currently resting in our room in the inn._

 _…_ helps…who is it? Oh. Right. "Who is it?"

 _We get up from our bed and grab our sword just in case._

"A visitor." We hear…oh, it's red-hair.

 _We open the door a little to peer out._

…she looks like she's fully expecting to sleep over, what with the pillow and all. "Can I help you?"

"Hi!" She whispers…in the happiest way I think I've ever heard someone whisper. "I'm staying over!"

…

Note how it was a statement of fact. "I'm sorry?"

"I got evicted, so I'm staying over." She says like it's the most natural thing in the world.

Also. "Evicted?"

"Merchant license violation." She mumbles. "Something about it being too dirty to be an apothecary."

…huh.

"Ok, but why _this_ room specifically?" I don't own the place.

She grins brightly at us. "Because the innkeeper said I could stay in this room for free!"

…

Ok, you know what? I'm not going to question it.

"Yeah, knock yourself out." I sigh and pack my stuff (of which I don't really have a lot of in the first place).

I realize that this is probably meant to be...a nice thing? A shipping thing? From the innkeeper (who really is a nice woman) but I'm just not interested at the moment.

 _Also note: she treats our vacating of the room as if it was a given, and joyously flops onto the bed before immediately going to sleep._

I envy that kind of sleep speed.

 _We gently shut the door behind us and leave the resting quarters._

"Ah, you're up early." The innkeeper says upon sighting us. "Is there something I can help you with?"

 _We haven't gone to bed yet, if it isn't yet obvious._

I approach the counter to whisper/hiss. "Why did you send that…I actually don't know her name. Why did you send her to my room?" I demand, non-sequitur, and demand again.

"The lass's Mellow." The innkeeper smirks. "And I need to get her out of my hair."

Is that her name? Also, what?

"What do you mean?" I demand.

She pulls us closer in a somewhat menacing way. "Do you see the types she attracts? If she stays around here for one more night she'll bring my shop under."

Ok, but still. "Why me _specifically?_ "

Her smirk turns…diabolical. "Because she likes you."

I…find that excessively difficult to believe. I find it easier to believe if I discount the possibility of, y'know, romantic attraction.

…ominous.

 _You find the idea of a pretty girl showing interest of any kind in you_

Ominous, yes, pay attention

The inn matron turns serious. "I want you to take her off my hands, I don't care how."

I don't like this. "Or else?"

"Or else, pay up." She has a very…smug…expression on her face. So much for free room and board.

…fine.

 _We pay the 'debt' of 30 gold and leave._

…

So…now what?

…now we do the sensible thing.

 _We find a different inn and pay 10 gold for a room._

Funny how these things work out when you don't just have a single place to shop, no?

[Morning]

Was her name seriously Mellow? Like who the fuck names their kid Mellow?

 _Are we in any position to criticize?_

…No, I guess not.

Anyhoo, time to go to work.

[Morning to Noon]

I make five swords, four of which were abject failures. Not as bad as Green Dumpster Fire, but still pretty bad.

Adrianne gave us free use of the forge for the morning, which allowed us to experiment. As the failures implied, the experimentation had some pretty high costs.

On the plus side, the last sword came out great.

"This is almost good enough to sell in my shop." Adrianne says approvingly. "I see those failures weren't in vain."

I wanted to try and do progressively dumber shit in order to make spiffier swords, so this batch of five using a similar method to the Japanese method of 'folding'. Note that I know absolutely nothing about the actual technique of folding, so the similarity basically ends with the name and intention.

Now, I do know that the actual technique existed for the sake of making poor Japanese steel better. Beyond that though…

 _GLORIOUS NIPPON STEEL FOLDED 9000 TIMES_

…Yeah. That's as much as I know.

In my case, I replace impurities in the sword with…uh…some mixture of Iron, Carbon, and Oxygen, during the heating process. As the failures can attest, it's not exactly something I can reliably do yet. The Perk abuse isn't really something that I can define through just experience, so…yeah. A bit of a trial-and-error thing, and all weird n'shit.

Also, it's notable that I'm doing more work to create a piece that's inferior to just straight up smithing.

 _For now, anyway._

For now.

[Noon to Dusk]

Ok, cool. We made seven swords, five of them were busts.

Three were made with folding (one survived), and four were made with infusing.

I also got two more skill points.

 _So…_

Right. Infusing is the art of me sacrificing an ingot in exchange of having a sword with more durability. Apparently I can do more than just make it more durable, but one step at a time and all that.

Also worth noting: infusing the steel makes it unsalvageable for the purposes of sword-making, so we've recycled the four infused swords (for two ingots in total) and made some nails out of them.

 _Why nails?_

Why not nails?

It's worth noting that the recycled infused steel was of an astonishingly low quality, to the point where the nails crumbled shortly after I finished making them. I'm not entirely sure why yet, but I get the feeling it's because there's magic involved™ somehow.

[Next Day, Morning to Afternoon]

I've burned the rest of my steel for three more swords (two normal, one infused). One normal method sword failed, so that got turned into materials for the infused sword.

Otherwise, the two pieces came out just fine.

The normal sword is perfectly able to hold an edge and is otherwise indistinguishable from Adrianne's work.

The infused one is flat out superior in every way except weight, which makes it more of a blunt weapon than a sword, but eh…

I also got one more skill point for a total of 4 unspent, which I will do so now.

Lessee…

…

I'll take Replacement 2, Deconstruction, and Fine Eye.

Replacement 2's pretty explanatory; it's just a straight upgrade to Replacement.

Deconstruction looked interesting. It lets me break down material to its base components easier. How much easier I have no idea, but we're gonna find out.

Fine Eye became available after Replacement 2 was taken, and it…basically lets me be a clockmaker? I tried it out a little and in general the perk seems to make jobs like inserting small rubies into rings easier.

I guess this means I can go into accessory crafting if I really wanted the money, or something.

I should go pay that bandit camp outside Whiterun a visit and get my hands on that Transmutation spellbook.

 _Nevermind that you can't cast spells yet._

Yeah, that's fallen by the wayside right now, hasn't it?

Anyhoo, I have five bars of Refined Steel and one Ruby I purchased from Adrianne. Let's fucking _do_ this.

 _Where did you get the money for a ruby?_

The pieces that passed Adrianne's inspection were put up for sale (fairly cheaply), and they made me a little bit of coin. No complaints so far, so I'm assuming the quality of the weapons have at least held up to some use.

…

Whew.

Ok.

…

[Forging the First Sword]

…

This is the trial piece.

We're putting in everything we're experimenting together, and…it comes out alright. A few errors here and there detracted from the sword's everything, but on the whole it's strong, serviceable, and doesn't look out of place when you swing it.

It also has strings of steel encrusted into the blade for a little extra polish. Not bad for a few hours work, if I do say so myself.

…Ok.

[Forging the Second Sword]

…

When did he get here?

 _Before we realized, Idolaf had arrived to watch us work._

Y'know dude if you could tell me what you wanted this would go a lot smoother

…no? You're just gonna stand there with your arms folded?

Not gonna say anything?

Just watch?

Fine then.

 _Along with Idolaf, a small group of people have come to watch as well. Some of them are a part of Idolaf's retinue and carry materials for making a sheath._

Mm…still, looking at sir Battle-Born…he's not exactly young. I think he'll do good with a sword that helps keep him alive for a few more years. Maybe against an errant arrow, or whatever. I should convince him to carry like a shield or something?

Ok, let's get started.

…actually, hang on a second.

Perk tree, pick perk: fire mastery. Make us better with fire (somehow).

 _Why?_

I vaguely remember something about the heat of the flames being responsible for metals melting incompletely or whatever. If we can heat our forge without doing any real work (not to mention make the fire hotter), then that's a definite plus.

I'm out of skill points now, so let's _really_ get started.

…

…

…

 _We are completely focused on our work, with absolutely zero regard for curious onlookers. By the time we finish, it's an hour after dusk._

…

Whew.

…when did the sun die?

Um…

Right-o.

I've finished it.

I have a good feeling about this.

I'm also really tired.

Like…really, really tired. Brain-dead, really.

 _We hand the finished sword to Idolaf, and collapse against the wooden beam in front of the shop._

So tried. Tried. Tired. I meant tired.

[3rd Person Camera]

Idolaf examines the sword given to him with a faint feeling of disappointment.

It didn't carry that same feeling as the piece from earlier…if anything, this one feels _too_ common. It was certainly forged from fine steel, with lines of engravings running down both sides of the blade and a small ruby encrusted in the hilt. There was a slightly tint of gold if he turned the sword at certain angles, but that was due to the torchlight.

But otherwise, it was quite normal. If he hasn't watched the young man toil away at the forge, he would have had trouble believing that it was a piece from him. Upon reflection, that, if anything, was a testament to how much he's improved over a period of a few days.

 _So the man is talented._ Idolaf sighs inwardly. _But the Battle-Borns are not short of talent…just those who can put the talent to use._ He taps the sword's point on the cobblestone path. _Still…it's a solid piece of work._ He concedes.

"Would you like to advertise this to me?" He asks the very much so tired Ash, curious to know what the maker would say of it.

"It's strong, durable, and will hold an edge like a _motherfucker_." Ash slurs, slumped against a beam and very much so more tired than he should be.

Idolaf waits for him to finish his sentence, then, five second later, realize with a start that the sentence has finished. He frowns in disappointment.

Idolaf then clears his throat. "Well, this isn't half bad." He says awkwardly, keeping his disappointment at bay. "You've certainly done well." He hands Ash a purse of 200 gold. The contract was to make a sword, and this one fulfills that marker quite well. Pity the other thousand was spent for nothing, though.

"And a small ruby." Adrianne amends. Idolaf gives him a little extra money for a ruby. "Pleasure doing business with you."

Idolaf walks away with a decent sword and a brief mental exercise in identifying the term "motherfucker" as a compliment.

"Funny." Adrianne chuckles as Idolaf rounds the corner and leaves her line of sight. "And here I thought he would writhe on the ground due to your craftsmanship."

"I'm tired." Was Ash's only exclamation from his seat on the ground.

"Yes, yes…" Adrianne laughs lightly, lifting him up by his left arm. "Let's get you inside."

 _Ash crashes at Warmaiden's for a night._

…

[The Next Day]

…

Oh my lord I don't know why I was so tired.

…well, ok, I think I can guess why I was so tired, but I don't know why.

 _What a useless pair of sentences._

Shush.

"Good morning." War-Bear greets us as we stumble out of the makeshift pelt/leather bed they made for us. Apparently we slept in the store armory. "How was the night?"

I yawn. "Best sleep I've ever gotten." Not a joke either. Sleep after being dead tired is the best.

"That's nice." Adrianne tosses over an apron. "Put that on, we have work to do."

 _Adrianne takes us under her wing for another week, teaching us how to forge every weapon except bows._

Bows are carpentry based skills.

Comparatively speaking, we do worse than we did when being employed by Idolaf. Our stuff are still decent—Adrianne puts them on sale and gives us a cut when they sell—but they're by no means nearly as good as the "masterwork" I smoothed.

Still, my stuff _is_ pretty good. Warmaiden's made more money with us around, largely because we're, y'know, an extra set of hands.

 _We gained 12 skill points for our week of work._

I decided to take 4 ranks of Tailoring Mastery (better sewing), 4 ranks of Fine Eye (detail work is easier), 3 ranks of Weaponsmithing Mastery (better weapon making), and one rank of Steelworking (steel's easier to work with).

I also got the chance to get a second…I'm going to call it a 'major' Perk, with the other ones being minor ones. So I got the chance to pick something that was as powerful as Combat Support (double crafting exp, half all other exp gains).

Again, the tree's fucking huge, but this time I had the chance to sit down and examine each option in detail. After a day of deliberation, we picked…"Infusion", which lets us create equipment with an inherent magical power. This magical power stacks with Enchanting, so I'll be able to make some absurd gear once I learn to enchant/disenchant.

Anyhoo, after the week is up, we quit our job with Adrianne's blessing. I make a 20% commission on the pieces sold through Warmaiden's. I now have a wallet of 2000 gold. This is a significant amount of gold to make in a week as an apprentice.

…though it's worth noting that we're not being headhunted because 1: Grey-Manes won't take what Battle-Borns didn't take and 2: if Idolaf didn't headhunt, nobody else will.

…and 3: Warmaiden's is one of those 'sweet spot' shops that was big enough to use extra hands but small enough to get by without hiring more. Shops smaller than they don't need an apprentice and bigger shops have some already.

…So…

…What next? Should I get to work and learn to enchant stuff?

Or should I finally learn to use magic for some offensive capability?

…Decisions, decisions…

…mm…

…First things first, I need a more permanent place to live. Maybe a business of my own too, so I can avoid starving to death.

…2000 gold is a lot, but it's also very little if we want to live in Whiterun. I feel like a college student again.

…I guess that means we're moving into the poor quarters, huh?

 _So we do. We make our way towards the low incoming district._

Though I'm calling it the poor quarters, it's by no means destitute. The (arguably) most populated part of the city, the poor quarter is home to basically all the unskilled labor of Whiterun. Farmers, miners, Belethor's assistant…they all live here. And as is the norm for non-industrialized societies, unskilled labor is the biggest labor.

 _Unskilled is such a stupid name._

Stupid names aside, it's a pretty pleasant place to live (for a poor person). The guards don't shirk their duty to patrol down here, so it's pretty safe…even though the guards are running a bit thin nowadays. I blame the war.

 _We look around for real estate in the poor quarter until we find something that really fits our bill._

It's an abandoned Smithy. It's small—the house is easily a quarter the size of Warmaiden's and is only one floor—and the attached smithy needs to be rebuilt. But there's a smelter too, though we need fuel for that as well…

…but the property is only 200 gold, and buying it would ensure that I will always have a forge for my own use.

Fuckin' _sold_.

 _We buy it and feel buyer's remorse a moment later._

There's a lot of remodeling that needs to be done.

It'll be fun, I think.

…

[Later That Day, 3rd Person Camera]

…

Lars Battle-Born, the youngest child of the Battle-Born family, has found a shiny new toy. Technically, he would tell you that he isn't the youngest in the family, because there are others younger than him, but he's the youngest of the true Battle-Born bloodline, so nobody listens to his complaints.

For today, it doesn't really matter, because he has a shiny new toy…er, sword. His father would tan his hide if he called a sword a toy. The sword was a little big for him, because Grandfather Battle-Born had it specially made for himself. Lars didn't know what the fuss was about, especially since that one sword, the one carried home in silk like the most valuable newborn, could sing if you swung it.

This one wasn't that weird—it didn't sound like anything when he swung it—but if he turned it against the sun _juuuust_ right, the blade glowed with this golden hue that looked really cool. The glowing ruby was pretty neat, too.

He feels a little bad taking it from its displaying case, but it's not like anybody's going to miss it for a few minutes. Plus, he had permission from his grandmother…though he really could have done without her happiness at him showing interest in fighting for once.

Either way, Lars happily walks from the rich section of the neighborhood to the market section, intent on showing off a little to Mila Valentia, his best friend. Hopefully he wouldn't run into Braith on the way there. He struts down the street with the sword strapped to his back (it's a tad big to wear around his waist) and he enjoys the looks he gets as the passersby turn to stare a little.

Soon enough, sadly, his steps falter. There was Braith, the little fireball of a girl, playing around with some flowers before him. No doubt she plucked those from some poor, unoffending flowerpot on her way here.

 _She bought them from a small shop, blushing furiously when the shopkeeper asked for whom the flowers were for._

Lars tried his best to walk past her as if he didn't know she was there. He was, sadly, not a good actor.

"Hey!" Braith accuses him after he's walked barely five paces past her. "Lars Battle-Born!"

Lars dearly wished that he could just ignore her and not get kicked in the shins for it. "Yes, Braith?"

She was deeply offended by him ignoring her, but her attention was immediately drawn to the real-looking sword on his back. "What's that?" She asks, more curious than angry right now.

"This is, uh…a sword." Lars says hesitantly. "It belongs to my family."

"So why do you have it?" Braith doesn't really know how to be anything but hostile while talking to him, much to her own embarrassment. "Did you steal it?"

"No!" Lars flinches at the accusation. "I'm just going to show it to Mila."

"Oh." Braith…was more interested in seeing the sword than jealous that he's going to see Mila Valentia. "I'm coming too!"

Lars knows the battle was lost before it began, and just sighs.

…

Braith accompanies Lars on his trip to the market district, much to his annoyance. After some time (much more than Lars would have liked), they find the Valentia fruit stand in the center of the market. As usual, it was surrounded by a small gaggle of patrons interested in both the fruit and the pretty widowed mother, Carlotta. Little attention is paid to her daughter, Mila, as she puts fruits into the baskets of the shoppers who purchased them.

"Hi Lars. Hi Braith." Mila greets him as she sees him through the crowd. "What do you have there?" She stares at the hilt protruding from behind Lar's back.

 _A few heads to turn and look, because people are curious._

"Grandfather had this sword made for him." Lars says, unclipping the sheath from his back with some difficulty and showing it to Mila. "I thought it looked cool." He said a little lamely.

"Aye, it's a good sword, lad." One patron says cheerily. "It's a wee bit big for ye." He adds to the general chuckling of all in attendance.

"I just thought it looked cool." Lars smiles sheepishly.

"Can you draw it?" Another patron asks.

Lars puts the sheath down and pull…with no results. He, in his haste, did not notice the two straps of leather locking the blade in place. The straps exist so the blade wouldn't accidently unsheathe outside of combat unless you gave it a reasonably strong, "time to throw down" pull. Lars is like, ten, so of course he didn't know that, nor did he have the arm strength for it.

His attempts earned him a few laughs and a few cheers, but it didn't do much to soothe his embarrassment.

"It still looks nice." Mila said as a consolation as Lars shamefacedly puts the sword back on his back.

"Made you look stupid." Braith added, attempting to console but doing pretty much the total opposite.

 _She wanted to call the sword stupid._

Lars hung his head.

"Now, now." Jon Battle-Born, Lar's clan-brother and elder, claps him on the shoulder. "Nothing wrong with a sword that only draws in a fight." He chuckles. "So you said Idolaf had this sword made, eh?" He adds, to get Lars to focus on something else.

"Yeah." Lars says, going into what he knows about the sword…but mostly talking about the singing one instead. Most if not all of the listeners around either dismiss him as a child over-embellishing a nice little story, or else go back to their shopping.

Jon, who has both held and swung said singing sword, listen with polite interest, egging on Lars every now and then with a well-placed word to keep the boy talking. He had himself considered getting a special piece made, but since Idolaf returned with the disappointment currently resting on Lar's back, he held back.

After a good ten minutes, Lars finishes his rambling in much higher spirits than before.

Mila, who had to go back to work, heard about half of it. Braith, on the other hand, was staring at him with stars in her eyes. Lars then looked at her weird and the stars were gone.

"Erm, Brother Jon." Lars asks nervously after a fashion. "Can you teach me how to swing a sword?"

Jon, who never expected the bookworm-y Lars to ask such a question, was momentarily surprised. "Of course." The surprise was clear in his voice. "Though that one might be a touch big for you."

"I'm just playing around." Lars says in a rather self-deprecating way. "So it'll be fine."

Jon chuckles and steers him out of the market crowd, where the two of them could have a little more space to swing. By chance, they end up underneath the awning of Belethor's General Goods. Braith follows them and plops herself down on a nearby crate to watch. Everyone who knew her thought she was looking for a chance to insult Lars some more. Everyone who _really_ knew how she felt about him stifled their 'aww that's so cute' smiles.

"Ok, now this is what you do." Jon says after Lars removed the leather safeties and drew the sword. He takes the boy through some basic exercises, and has him practice against a tough-looking leather bag filled with rocks.

"Hey!" Belethor calls out to them after Lars practices a few swings. "Are you gonna pay for the bag!?"

"We will, Belethor, don't you worry." Jon replies with a hearty laugh.

"Yeah, yeah…" Belethor sighs. Jon never really pays up, and he certainly didn't expect him to do so, anyway. As he turns, his glance passes over one of his windows and he stops short.

Belethor's eyes widen and he turns fast to Jon again. "Jon! Get down!"

Jon had only begun to react to the shouted warning when the sound of something heavy striking wood silenced the market square. The patrons looked around confusedly for the source.

"WHAT THE HELL WHERE YOU THINKING?!" Belethor booms at the origin of the sound.

"S-sorry…!" A young aspiring hunter calls out sheepishly, standing on a hill a little distance away from the market. He had just purchased a bow and, in his excitement, set a targeting dummy (as opposed to an easier-to-hit bullseye) directly between him and the market. Normally, you set the thing designed to attract arrows _away_ from crowds of people, and this goes double when you're just learning to shoot.

As such, the hunter had fired an arrow before the bowmaker could catch and stop him. The arrow of course missed the dummy without even a grazing hit, zoomed towards the market stalls, and by sheer luck struck the wooden beam of Belethor's shop, not a foot away from the back of Lar's head.

"By the gods that was a close one." Jon breathes out, his adrenaline turning him into a total mess. "Are you alright, Lars?"

"Ye-yes?" Lars looks around confusedly, not knowing exactly what the fuss is about. He sees the arrow that nearly killed him, but he doesn't have the danger sense to realize just how closely he came to dying.

 _The aspiring hunter gets his ass handed to him by the bowmaker._

"Run along home now." Jon breathes out. "Before you give me another heart attack."

"R-right." Lars agrees nervously, picking up on the local mood but still a bit confused. He sheathes the sword and quietly bid Mila farewell. Braith was too busy having a mini-heart attack for his sake and thus did not get indignant at him for ignoring her.

"Good thing that beam was there, eh?" Belethor says with a nervous chuckle. "Or else little Lars would be in trouble right now." He follows the boy with his eyes until he's sure the kid is safe.

"Yeah." Jon nods, idly examining the arrow, feeling like there's something off…he blinks quickly as he has a sudden insight. He gives the arrow a closer look, taking the time to examine it from all angles.

 _It's all wrong._ He notes.

The arrow had lodged in a way that didn't make a lot of sense. If its angle was correct, it would have had to have come from a clearly opposite direction, like…the middle of the road leading up to the wealthy district…and then arrow would have needed to make a sharp right turn before it made impact. In other words, from the position of the hunter, the arrow would have made a near-half circle in order to lodge itself in the beam.

Alternatively, the arrow could have been fired from in front of Lars and only barely missed his head. However, for this to happen, the arrow would have needed to come from a position where Jon could see the shooter, and more importantly the arrow would have travelled directly through Jon's body to end up where it was. Jon wasn't sure on the property of steel, but he was reasonably certain that if an arrow passed through his body he would have felt it.

 _So basically Lars is facing North, the arrow is shot from basically the South (so it's tip would be North) but the arrow tip lodged in the beam is still facing the South._

Jon stared at the arrow on the beam a little longer and thought about retrieving it before a guard ushered him away ("No lollygagging"). He files the issue away for later examination, but for now chalks it up to dumb luck.

Some of the people in the market district would walk away with a little worry in their eyes and scan the city for any more idiots with bows. A large majority would scratch their heads at the arrow's strange flight. A very tiny minority would also scratch their heads at the wispy transparent light that seemed to flash in the corner of their eyes an instant before they heard the arrow strike the beam.

…

[1st Person Camera, Next Day]

…

So I just spent the past few days doing repair work on my new shack.

I think it's looking pretty good.

 _The fact that it's a shack with a leaky roof has not changed._

Small steps at a time. Most of my time was spent getting the forge and smelter up and running, so…yeah. Small steps.

I should add at this point that I'm not the only smith in the "clover district", as this place is called. There are multiple, and a few of them have forges larger than this one. Most, though, just use a small furnace with an anvil, and they—from my limited observations—focus primarily on tool repair jobs.

So that's probably going to be my main business for…until someone comes looking for the Dragonstone.

 _And that would be…_

Right now, actually.

"Hey man!" Jake's voice comes from behind me. "How's the new business?"

"I'm just setting it up." I reply and turn to…oh.

There's Jake. He's obviously had an upgrade over his starter Sack Shirt—he's now in some strong but coarse-looking white miner shirt. He has pieces of leather armor over it, kinda like Fallout's so badly underutilized system. It's patchwork, but it covered the parts where we care about the most-the ribcage and all of the soft meaty bits underneath. Sticking out over his head is the hilt of a great sword, and on his waist is a short sword.

Aria…looks the same, I think? Still stunningly mod-pretty. She has a short, dark blue dress cut to her knees, pants, iron greaves, iron heavy armor…I think I know who's the tank here. She's armed with a short sword and what appears to be a hunting bow and a quiver of arrows. So…midrange? It's not uncommon for the Dragonborn to start off with heavy armor and then go into range and then use magic and then learn to make potions while sneaking around and pickpocketing.

…So the 'oh' is because they have a third person along, and it's…

'Mellow'. Or whatever her name is. She's still short, still pretty, still well-boobed…and is wearing a pristine set of leather armor along with an apothecary's satchel. She also has a Steel axe and shield, and like the armor, none of it seems to have seen any kind of action.

Hmm…well. "So business is a little slow." I finish with an obviously unfriendly change in my tone.

"She led us here." Jake explains. "Do you two know each other?" He sounds like he's worried he just stepped in something. How did she know we got this place?

But if we were being honest, nothing happened between the two of us beyond a little bit of inconvenience. "In some ways." I shrug. "What's your name and how do you spell it?" I ask 'Mellow'.

The girl puffs up again. "I am Mellow. M-e-l-o."

…Ok. Also for how pretty and kept she looks I kind of expected a last name. Y'know, like how everybody who's upper class has a last name. Battle-Born, Grey-Mane…Aver-something.

 _Something that the active mind missed: Melo seemed to bite off a word after stating her first name._

"It's a very 'you' thing to have met a girl and not have asked her name." Jake grins.

"Yeah, yeah…" I eyeroll. "So what's up?" I sit next to my forge, which I need to find heat for at some point. The three of them find place to lean against.

"Apologies to the two of you." Jake says first to the girls. "So we went up to the Barrow." He opens without preamble.

"Ah." Yeah. "How was the undead?"

"Wait, what?" Melo—the name is stupid— says, surprised. "Undead?"

"We met plenty of Spiders and Skevers, but no Draugur." Aria says. "We were stopped by a sealed door."

Ooooh.

 _Our comprehension shows on our face._

"Yeah." Jake nods at us. "Without what's-his-face to give the Claw to us we had to backtrack to Riverwood. The shopkeep guy said you had passed along with some weird-ass stone."

I had fetched the weird-ass stone when I bought this property, and it's lying next to the shack. In plain view of everybody.

"That's the stone I'm looking for." Aria says suddenly. "So you _did_ have it."

"To nobody's surprise." Jake grins. "How was the fight?"

"Party of ten with four fatalities."

Jake's grin fades. "Shit, man."

"I know. At least I got an old cold axe to show for it." It's lying next to the Dragonstone. The ground beneath its blade is a little bit frosted.

"Four people died?!" Melo stares between the two of us. "What in the hells happened with that barrow?" I don't think she knows what the barrow is.

 _Jake gives us a small shake of his head and his "nah, she doesn't know" face._

"It's best that you don't ask about it." I laugh. "So, Aria. You're free to take the stone if you want."

"Done." Aria nabs up the stone. Her arms are way stronger than me, by the look of things.

 _We used to carry the stone around like a turtle shell with rope. Aria's using the rope to sling it over her shoulder like a shield._

Come to think of it. "What've you been doing? It's like three days to Riverwood, no?"

"We hired a carriage." Jake says. "So it's three days to go back and forth. I saw you smith, man. You looked good for once."

 _Melo giggles at "for once"._

"Fuck you." I laugh. "I did damn good for a week. What did you do before you got the quest?"

"I went with Aria to the Companions." Jake explains. "I got some good practice and learned to actually use a sword." He grins. "That way, if I go into another Barrow, I would know what to do."

Going by his impression 'not knowing what to do' seemed to have been his course of action in the Barrow. Not that I can talk, since I wasn't all that different…so much for taking the more careful approach, eh?

"I'm going to turn this in." Aria says and begins to make her way towards Dragonsreach…and she still bounces like nuts. I mean, she's wearing armor, sure, but she's keeping it a little looser than it has to be, based on the straps and the give the armor seems to have. Either way, the armor may be solid, but she's, uh, not.

 _The two of us (Jake, Ash) watch her bounce away, a little bit transfixed. Melo is a little (rightfully) offended._

"You have no idea how distracting that is when you're trying to learn to handle a sword." Jake mutters with a bit of a chuckle.

Can't help it. "You unconsciously rubbed your sword in the process, huh?"

"Vigorously." Jake laughs. "I lost a hundred coins on the" he sees Melo "um." His tone drops off the cliff.

So he paid for lady favors, no? "How much was it per trip?"

 _Melo is lost by our conversation._

"Twenty-five." Jake sighs.

Really. "I'm surprised you didn't make it a daily trip."

He laughs. "I tried not to. Dude, you have no idea how hard it was."

Heh. "I bet."

"Fuck you." Jake laughs. "I walked right into that one." He admits.

"The two of you are old friends." Meloh says, a bit lost.

"The best." Jake puts his arm around me. "Thanks, Mellow."

"Uh-huh." Melo…I guess she tries to out-bounce Aria with how she walks?

 _She's pacing around a little and is very noticeably bouncing on the balls of her feet._

…oh, that's a good point.

 _We snap our fingers upon seeing Melo's breasts rebel against physics despite the leather armor._

I bought a tailor's tape measure yesterday. "Melo, can you come here for a second?"

She takes this as an excuse to flouncily bounce towards us. Going by the look of pain on her face this is an act she's quickly regretting.

"Are we waiting for Aria?" I ask as I take out some leftover iron crumbs and some cloth (a bolt of heavy type and a bolt of soft type).

"What are you doing?" Jake asks, curious. "Also, yeah. We have a job out in Rorikstead."

"Mell, stretch your arms out like this-" I make a T-pose with my arms "-I'm going to reach around. Why Rorikstead?"

 _Melo does as she's told with some confusion. We get our tape measure ready._

"Oh I see." Jake gets what I'm trying to do. "Apparently there's like a cave nearby that's roosting bandits, and there's a bounty of a hundred gold per head. Plus we have an escort job for two hundred. You want in?"

Hells yeah. "Sounds like fun." I reach around Melo's chest with the tape measure and take her chest measurements. She squeaks in surprise. "Sorry about that." I say with zero shame and get my materials ready.

 _We get to work tailoring a bra._

I'm not a woman, and if I were I wouldn't be a big-boobed woman, but I've heard enough complaints on how much they hurt when you exercise to know that Melo (and by extension Aria) probably don't like being all that active.

I mean, yeah, the bounce is good for the charm bonus, but imaging going into a full sprint like that. Hurts like a bitch, no doubt. Plus I'm damn sure the armor isn't padded on the inside, so imagine your nipples rubbing up against coarse fabric plus actual metal. Yuck.

 _With our amazing Perk abilities the bra begins to take shape at a remarkable pace._

"I'm surprised you know how to make one." Jake notes. "What with not having a girlfriend and all."

"I'm winging it a little." I admit. "Unless Melo would like to take off her clothes so I can have a frame of reference."

"No." Melo replies confusedly. "That sounds like a really stupid idea."

Aye. So we're winging it. Good thing her bust size can be kinda sorta determined through her clothes. I might want to err a little on the larger side just to be sure, since the default clothing in Skyrim tend to be bulky and layered to fight against the cold. Are bras more comfortable when they're a little snug or when they're a little loose?

 _We need to ask an actual woman for that answer._

No kidding…but first I need to work with metal. "Jake, can you get me some fire salts? There's an apothecary two blocks that way."

"Yeah, sure." Jake hops to his feet, spins on his heels, and gets going.

"Why fire salts?" Melo asks curiously.

"Because the forge knows the difference." Jake and I say at the same time, much to Melo's confusion.

He comes back in about ten minutes with a packet of fire salts. Trailing him is a courtier carrying large cords of firewood.

I should have told him to get firewood, so Jake's a dear for thinking ahead.

"300 gold." Jake says after the two of them unloading everything into the forge. I assume this means he paid the courtier already.

I count out the gold and fork it over.

 _Must be tough._

Not really. I store my gold in pouches of 100, then pouches of 1000. Fuck counting it out by hand, man.

…Alright.

 _We mix the fire salts into the wood as Adrianne taught us and toss it into the Forge._

One of these days I'll learn Flames and make everything go a lot smoother, but for now…

 _We strike flint and ignite the forge._

The good thing about fire salts is that, after this entire thing is lit, you can keep it on a low-burn state for a solid week before you need more fuel. I can keep it going longer since I have fire-based perks, but the fire salt is the big MVP of smithing. I use about a tenth of a stack to light this forge this time.

Thank you Balimund for issuing a fetch quest in game for ten stacks of salts. I never finished the quest, takes too much time to gather.

I wonder how do you get it in this Skyrim? Can we run a Fire Salt ring with elemental summons? I should learn elemental summons…but first I need to learn magic.

 _As we're idly wandering in our mind, getting our stuff together, Jake and Melo chat idly._

Hard workers, every last one of 'em. That reminds me. I need to make/buy some chairs. And furniture.

Is there an Ikea in Skyrim? It's Nordic enough, no?

…Forge is now hot. Alright.

 _We take two iron ingots and infuse them together, and then beat the end result into flat pieces._

I love having bullshit perks that translate into something resembling mind-exploding talent. Fun fact: the iron plate's density, despite being the infusion of two iron bars, is actually less than a single bar of iron.

 _As we get to work, Jake sits next to us to catch up._

"So what's the story between you and the hot redhead?" Jake asks.

"No story." I reply. "Just stupid weeabo bullshit."

"Ah." Jake grimaces. "How many perks do you have now?"

"Arguably not enough; how about you?"

Jake laughs. "Same. We need to spend some time mapping out our perk chart."

Yeah. "No kidding."

So we do. Jake has less varied perks than I do but has more of them, so he's on a higher level and is _way_ the fuck more specialized than me.

…

 _Aria is gone for around thirty minutes in total. When she returns, we have crafted a brassiere of a relatively nice quality and have gotten our bearings in terms of our perks. Still, the bra gets all the attention._

"Man, for someone who has never seen one up close you did a damn good job." Jake laughs.

"In the future, please provide valuable input during the crafting process." I sigh. If memory serves Jake used to work in a Lingerie store for a while, so having a little bit of (quasi)professional input would have been nice.

Either way…

"Here, put this on." I pass over the result to Melo. She examines it with a lot of confusion and a little bit of disdain.

The bra is built mostly out of the coarse but very strong cloth, with an outer layer of the softer, nicer cloth (especially the part that actually hugs the body). The supporting cloth has also been reinforced with the iron plates, which I Replaced into the cloth. In other words, it's strong, it supports, and because I fucking _love_ frills it also looks pretty nice.

 _The Replaced Plates are miniscule, to the point where it would be near impossible to make it with just a hammer and anvil._

Once again I would like to thank the perks for giving me bullshit abilities that pass as talent.

One of these days I'll get my hands on some dye and I'll make stuff that also looks amazing. Or else nylon. I don't know.

 _We're apparently very bored._

Yes.

Melo figures out where the piece of equipment is meant to go, turn into a tomato, and then go into my forge shack to actually try it out…I should never call it a forge shack again. She goes in at roughly the same time Aria actually comes back.

"What was that all about?" Aria asks, curious.

"Ash made underwear." Jake says with total deadpan.

"Huh." Aria muses and goes into our currently unfurnished house.

"I _fully_ expect them to come out and just kick your ass." Jake says. I don't reply, because that's what I think will happen too.

 _The two of us sit and wait patiently for a minute._

The two girls come out after that minute. Aria bounces, but the comparatively bigger Melo does not. I call that a win. Amendment, there is minor bouncing, but it's unnoticeable. No, it's noticeable, but it looks less extreme.

"Ash, can you make me one?" Aria asks almost immediately after stepping out of the door. "I'd love to not have people stare at me everywhere I go."

 _The two of us look away in embarrassment._

"And an extra set for me!" Melo amends cheerily. "My back feels a lot better." she's actually a little bit taller now.

That's kind of sad, in a way. "Yeah, I'll get right on it. Don't we have a job though?"

"The caravan leaves in like an hour." Jake says, then snaps his fingers. "Oh, that's right. You can do smithing now, right? I want you to put our swords to the grindstone before we leave." He unclips his great and short swords and hand them over, sheathe and all.

"I can do that." I take the swords over to the grindstone. "I imagine this is what I'll be doing on the road, too."

Jake agrees with me. "Probably, though from what I heard having a travelling smith or armorer isn't really unusual."

That's unusual to me. "Really?"

"It depends on the size of the party." Aria explains. "Solo travelers don't care about stuff like this, nor are they armed well enough for it to matter. Teams of two to four tend to have one person who can do field upkeep on gear. Larger groups and military companies will usually have dedicated alchemists and smiths to keep their equipment combat ready."

…Sounds like I won't have a problem with employment if I don't mind joining a faction or so.

"In that regard, having you along would be understandable for the job." Aria says. "Since you seem to be gifted with both blacksmithing and tailoring skills."

I grin. I also finish putting the edge on Jake's swords.

"Wow that's fast." Jake marvels and regains his swords. "Mind if I give it a test?"

"Sure." I grab a piece of firewood and set it on a stool. "You break it, you buy it." I gesture to the stool.

Jake laughs, puts his foot underneath the piece of firewood, and pulls it into the air. I say 'pull' because he's not, y'know, kicking it. He's just giving it a little tap with his foot and ok the point is the wood is airborne

Jake makes a sweeping cut with his short sword, cutting the firewood horizontally into two. He then follows his momentum, twists, and then makes an upper cut with his great sword, cutting the firewood into four.

The four wood pieces fly up a little longer and then fall back to the ground. I'm satisfied.

Melo claps politely.

"Fucking hell." Jake whispers. "Dude, how sharp are these things?" He asks me.

Um. "Is there something wrong with them?"

"There was no reaction from the cut." Aria breathes. "The way that target flew."

…I…don't understand what she means.

"Look." Jake brings over the four pieces of firewood to me. "See here?" He proves to me that the four pieces of firewood are of (relatively) equal size.

I shake my head. "I don't know what I'm looking at."

"If I'm doing this exercise right, normally the firewood is not equal sized." Jake says. "Like, there's friction between the blade and the target, so the first swing would displace the wood and the second one would not hit dead center."

Yay physics. "Oh, so the blade is hella sharp."

"And of course he's blasé about it." Jake laughs. "Dude, I don't want to oversell how important this is, but weapons maintenance is a big deal here." He glances over to Aria. "Like, weapons lose a shitton of their power if they're not maintained right."

Reality. "I don't doubt that maintenance is huge, but I do think you're overselling it."

"Refine mine as well." Aria offers up her blade.

 _We put an edge onto it._

Aria gives it a test. It doesn't cut as cleanly as Jake's, but according to her it's still "exceptional". With that, we're a bit short on time, so Jake helps us collect some of our materials and we set off for the caravan rally point.

With Melo in tow, because she wants to come along and technically we can't stop her.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes: It would be too convenient if every piece that came out of the AshForge was conspicuously amazing.

For reference:

Ash – Lv 24

Major Perks: Combat Support (Double crafting xp, half other xp), Infusion (Can create inherently magical equipment)

Minor Perks:

Tailor Reinforcement (Make clothing stronger), Replacement 2 (Replace item part with other parts), Refining Mastery (Refining goes better), Melee Foresight (Increased Evasion), Steelworking 2 (Working with steel is easier), Swordcraft Mastery (better results when making swords), Weaponsmith mastery 4 (better results when making swords), Deconstruction (salvaging items is easier), Fine Eye 5 (Jobs involving small items is easier), Fire Mastery (can burn better), Tailor Mastery 4 (better results when making clothes).

Jake – Lv 41

Major Perks: Great Weapons Master (double fighting xp, half other xp), Greater Weapons Master (double fighting xp, half other xp, weapons 50% more effective), Greatest Weapons Master (double fighting xp, half other xp, weapons twice as effective).

 _So Jake's getting x8 normal combat xp and his weapons hit three times as hard, in exchange of basically getting no xp anywhere else._

Minor Perks: 1hand sword mastery 10 (one-handed swords work better), 2handed sword mastery 10 (two-handed swords work better), shield mastery 10 (shields work better), counter 5 (counterattacks are better), overwhelm 5 (bonus damage to weaker targets)

 _So…yes, Jake's specializing into strict sword combat._

Apologies for the layout, I didn't want to take up more lines.


	5. The Rorikstead Sewing Experience

{ === + === }

Hello from Rorikstead!

 _We're just going to skip over all of the caravan thing, huh?_

We marched and it rained a little, then it stopped raining, and then it was kinda cold and windy, and then we marched some more.

There you go.

The convoy itself had six wagons and about thirty guards in total, so I assume the roads aren't as safe as they were this time. Still, 400 gold is 400 gold (total).

I would not recommend doing it on a daily basis though. My feet still hurt.

Anyhoo…

Our second quest—Aria's second quest—is to find and maul a cave of bandits. We don't know where the bandits are, which is also why we're in Rorikstead.

The plan is as thus: Aria, Jake, and Mell will go searching. I'll do other shit.

 _Huh._

Aria does the bulk of the searching, as her tracking skills are easily second to none. Jake is tagging along to both learn those tracking skills and to act as support…since, while unlikely, Aria can get injured if she's overwhelmed. Mell's going so she can collect herbs.

Regardless of what I think of her skills, she is (supposedly) a trained apothecary, so…y'know, she's tagging along. Jake said he won't be looking after her since she's technically not a part of the group, but he's not that heartless so he'll totally have an eye on her.

 _And we are…_

Staying in Rorikstead to make things. With a population of approximately 1000 (counting roofs), Rorikstead is far from the geographical footnote it is in-game. So I plan to do some sewing after buying some leathers. The cloth that I can get here are probably of a lesser quality than Whiterun, so…yeah. Leathers.

Hopefully I'll make some good armor pieces for the front line by the time we're done searching, because by Aria's own admission, "we might be here a while."

…

[Day One]

…

The leatherworkers here don't make a lot of high quality stuff (so says the travelling caravan guards) but at least it's cheap. I bought about 100 gold's worth of leathers, which is enough material to make a full set of leather armor…if I really, _really_ stretched the definition of 'armor'.

 _We have a total of six 'pieces' of leather._

Since this is attempt number one I'm not that keen on making a full set of armor. I'll settle for just a chest piece or something.

So! First things first, let's make…oh…a uh…what's it called. Bracer! A bracer. Let's make a bracer while channeling the incredibly unfair skills of Reinforcement and Replacing.

 _We find a nice, bright spot to sit outside the inn we've rented extended rooms with._

Something about being outside while sewing puts me in a good mood, not gonna lie.

Anyhoo.

 _We spend the four hours until lunch trying to make a bracer. Our fixed attention on the task completely shuts out the few onlookers having a nice little laugh at our expense._

Finished! This took me longer than I thought. Like, way longer.

"That's a nice piece of work you got there."

Um…

 _We look up to see a friendly, if slightly overbearing nord woman in heavy armor._

I don't recognize her, but she doesn't sound like she's trying to pick a fight. "Took me a while, but I finished it. One bracer." I grin. "What do you think? You look like you know more about a fight than me."

"Aye." She laughs. "And I know the fruits of a fine fight when I see one." She takes a seat next to me. I should note that I've basically been sitting on the front porch of the inn this whole time and my ass is quite sore.

Also her armor is patchwork steel (basically in game steel armor but with pieces torn off here and there). On further inspection it seems to be more 'patchwork leather with bits of steel thrown in'. It looks like its barely serviceable…but then what do I know.

"Mind if I give this a spin?" She gives the bracer a waggle. "What's your price?"

Armor _is_ a bit hard to come by without going to a major city. "Same as the cost for the leather. 100 gold."

She stops a little. "Really? Just charging for the material?"

I shrug. "I'm using it as practice, so I'm not too fussy on the details."

"100's a bit steep for a bracer, but alright." She tosses us a pouch of gold and waits for us to finish checking it for accuracy, which we do with reasonable speed because we're an aspiring businessman. "If you'll excuse me." She says and begins strapping it on.

The bracer is basically two pieces of hardened and reinforced leather attached on one end with an extremely sturdy set of…I'm not sure how to describe it, but the end result is that one side of the two pieces fit snugly into each other for additional protection for people with skinner arms (me). The other side is just normal leather straps. The two pieces of leather themselves are reinforced on the inside with weaves of the softest, fluffiest leather I could find.

 _Reason?_

F = mv. The more I can harm the velocity of an incoming attack, the less it'll hurt. I want my (the wearer's) wrists to not hurt.

Anyhoo, she straps it on and gives her arm a few test…rotations? Like she's rotating her arm.

"Hm." She rubs the bracer with her other hand. "This is surprisingly warm."

Of course it is. It's reinforced and padded to hell and back…but saying that would get my ass kicked. "Good for Skyrim's weather, no?"

"Aye." She flexes her arm to test the strength of the straps. "Thanks for the armor." She says (a bit mechanically). "If it holds up to a hit or two, I'll let you know."

At the moment that's all I need. "That would be appreciated."

…

After lunch (the other guys are still out in the field) I buy another 100 gold of leather and get back to work. I got one more piece this time for repeat business.

Let's make some boots.

 _Out of seven pieces of leather?_

Yeah, we'll just make the right side heavier since I'm right-footed.

Lessee.

…

 _We put five hours into the shoes after finding a better spot to sit._

My ass is still sore, but less so.

Anyhoo, it's done! A pair of nice leather boots. They go halfway up the shin and guard said shin. The shin guard part is the most heavily reinforced part and are built like the bracers, therefore they should handle a few hits just fine.

To test them, I wore them and had a small child kick me in the shinguard. It seemed to work well against a small child. He then kicked me in the shins and it stopped working so well. Still, a good learning experience.

Otherwise, it's pretty tough on the outside and the sole is sizable and is soft to pad footsteps. I've also applied a layer of wax, so it's theoretically water resistant. I have yet to find a puddle to jump into, so the jury's out on that modification.

I think I learned a lot about shoemaking, even if the shoe is, aesthetically, fucking ugly.

 _We gained a skill point._

It goes right into armormaking mastery, for general armor making mastery goodness.

…

[Day Two]

…

I think Mell's got a thing for Jake. She made puppy eyes at him when they left for the day. There's no injunction against sleeping with Mell beyond the fact that he's almost twice her age, so let's see how that goes. I dunno, maybe he'll wow her with his experience or something.

I sold my crafted pair of shoes for 120 gold.

Anyways.

I spent 200 gold on leather today and got an extra two pieces. So let's try to make something big today, like...actual chest armor.

I dislike how Skyrim combined upper body and lower body armor, but hey, it's their design choice. From a reality standpoint, the two pieces have to be made individually.

We're doing the upper body first.

…

 _We work through lunch. After around seven hours or so, we finish our work._

It's not done, but it's at a good place where I can reasonably stop.

I've made a cuirass. I wanted to make it with the same technique as I did the bracer, but the size difference meant that it was impossible to do it with the same level of consistency. Still, I managed to reinforce the areas covering the vitals (heart, lungs, tummy) and it seems to be able to take a few hits.

Hmm…well, we _are_ here to learn.

Let's see here…ah ha!

 _We accost a passing worker._

He's armed with a lumbering axe. "Sir! Excuse me, sir!"

He stops. "Can I help you?" He asks us warily.

"I'd like to borrow your arms for a moment." I stand and show him the armor. "I'm going to set this on the ground and I want you to bury your axe into it as hard as you can."

"Uh…" He's understandably confused by the request. "Alright."

Neato!

 _We toss the cuirass onto the ground, where it rolls and lands unceremoniously in the grass._

I wanted to represent combat damage as much as I can…though I am glad it landed front side up. "Alright, give it a go."

The man (Imperial) looks around at the four or five onlookers, give them a shrug of 'well, ok, let's see what happens' and gets into his wood-splitting stance. He raises his axe over his head, and brings it down as hard as he can.

The axe slams slightly left of the armor, onto the heavily reinforced section. There's a surprisingly loud 'pop' as the axe makes contact with the armor and it comes apart. Hm.

"Is this fine?" The man asks with a little bit of worry.

"Yeah, it's fine. Thanks for the help." I toss him a coin and collect the ex-Cuirass.

 _He takes the coin with confusion and heads into the inn._

Let's see…

Ok. It did pop at the sewing. So the cuirass is basically two large piece of leather that I've fixed together with leather straps. The reinforced armor held up just fine, though I don't know if it's because the armor was tough or if it's because the force of the blow got transferred to the straps.

…That said, if the force of the blow really transferred to the straps then it this armor isn't bad. Or else it's really bad, because the armor is supposed to absorb the force by itself.

…Yeah, yeah, this is actually really bad. Because if the force goes through the armor and travels straight to the weakest point, then the person wearing said armor's going to have a bad time.

So…what should I do?

Well, F=mv. Again, I want to decrease the velocity of the strike to better soak the hit…and…um…

…back up a step. First off, we have three attack types we have to deal with: Pierce, Slash, and Bash. I don't think I'll be able to design an armor that can cover all three fields, but for now let's think about what my design philosophy will be if I'm to stop these types of attacks.

Uh…lessee. Pierce first. Piercing attacks are small point of contact with an immediate driving force behind it. The two common attacks come from arrows and spears, with arrows being the lighter attack in terms of timing. By which I mean if you negate the force behind the arrow it stops being an attack, while a dude with a spear will just drive the pointy end deeper.

Still, the armor needs to have sufficient give at the point of contact to absorb the strike and have the material left over to pad the pointy end. Hmm. Against a spear…well, hopefully the armor would hold long enough for the wearer to countermurder the attacker.

Anyhoo…slashing attacks. Bigger contact area with a dash of bashing attacks in the middle. So…slashing attacks tend to be angled. Traditionally, armor that works best against slashing attacks is fluted so as to divert the strength of the attack away from the body. I don't know if I can do that with leather. I'm pretty sure that's not really doable…well, then again, I have bullshit abilities, so maybe I can pull it off. Mm…still, the key point is that we need to divert the slashing attack off of the body.

Last is bash…so this one should be pretty easy to handle. Force should be distributed through the armor as evenly as possible, or else directed to areas away from the human body for minimum ouchies.

 _So do we have any idea how to do any of that?_

None!

 _What about magic?_

None!

 _Uh…_

I'll figure it out as I go. For the time being just keeping in mind the design philosophy I need to adhere to is good enough.

…

 _We continue working until dinnertime._

Mm…better, I think. The cuirass's straps have been replaced. I'm not yet sure on how best to reinforce the connection point, so I think if it takes a hit as it is now the straps will pop open again. Still, I've added a soft layer of wild cotton (50 gold) onto the vital protection areas, so it'll maybe take a better hit.

To top things off I added a layer of thin, multi-layered weaves of leather straps. It's…odd, because the construct's a bit stronger than I think it should be? It's pretty neat otherwise. It feels tough enough to take a sudden arrow impact, but also has enough give to absorb a melee hit.

…That said, it took me two hours to make about ten square inches of this material, so…if I'm gonna make armor out of this, I should probably block off a lot of time to make it.

Hmm.

 _We got two skill points out of the armor._

I'll keep them for now, since it seems like Aria's getting close to her target.

Which reminds me.

 _We're currently at dinner with the other three._

"Aria's going alone tomorrow?"

They've been talking about it for some time, but I've been fondling my armor, so eh.

"I'm very close to finding their hideout." Aria nods. "So if either of them come with, there's a very high chance they'll be detected."

"Aka we're very bad at stealth." Jake says with a laugh. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, alright?" He adds.

"I'll be fine." Aria reassures him…also I'm pretty sure if push came to shove and he showed up to help it would be her bailing him out but whatevs

"Yeah, so we're staying behind for tomorrow." Jake says. "Wanna get together and do some writing?" He asks.

We're really overdue on our 'talk about the perks' meeting. "Sounds good."

"What about me?" Mell says/whines. "I don't wanna sit around and do nothing."

 _Mell?_

Melo sounds weird, so we're going to call her Mell. We got permission, too.

"Rorikstead isn't exactly huge, but I'm sure there's a lot of stuff you can do around here." I say…perhaps a little more dismissively than I had intended. "You could always people-watch."

"I'm not gonna stare at people staring at me." She says defensively. "That's not fun."

"I can imagine that you get a lot of impolite stares." Jake says. "We're gonna be busy, but you can stick around if you want to."

"Great!" Mell beams.

"I hope you didn't mind that I, y'know, invited her." Jake says to me after dinner.

To be honest? "Yeah, I don't really mind. I am worried that she's going to cue in to something though."

"Yeah, but if she's gonna be sticking around us then she's going to pick up on us being weird anyway." Jake says. "So might as well get her acquainted early."

Ha. "So she's the cleric?"

"Aria's the tank, dps, cleric, _and_ rogue." Jake laughs. "I don't think you appreciate how much of a Mary Sue she really is."

That's not a very nice thing to say. Hi, I'm a pot and I'm calling a kettle black.

"Ok, that's a bit mean of me." Jake backpedals a little. "She's a good person. She's just way too talented for her own good."

"Yeah. And Mell?" I grin. "She's got eyes on you, I think."

"I noticed." Jake smiles sheepishly. "It makes me uncomfortable."

"Yeah?"

"She reminds me of my ex's sister." Jake says…also, oh dear. "You've met my ex, right?"

I have. "She's a good person, with a smile way too rigid to be comfortable."

"Stepford smiler all the way through." Jake nods. "Her sister was pleasant, but…yeah." He shudders. I don't remember a lot about that breakup (they didn't exactly announce all the details) but I do remember that it was pretty nasty. That's neither here nor there though.

"Anyways, we'll worry about Mell later." I change the subject. "We need to focus on our current goal of breaking the game wide fucking open."

"For a given definition of a game, yeah." Jake smirks. "Let's do this shit."

And then we go to bed because it's like 11 pm.

…

[Next Day]

…

Huh.

Our breakfast table seems to have a new visitor.

"Mornin'." The mystery woman says cheerily.

Is this because I'm the last one to wake? Also, I think she's the one who bought the bracer from me two days ago.

 _And you know this because…_

…because she's wearing it. I don't want to brag but my bracer is _damn_ pretty compared to ye olde average piece of armor.

"The name's Frieda." The Armored Nord Lady introduces herself. "Say…is that yours?" She nods towards the Cuirass I'm hauling around like a sack of potatoes. An empty sack of potatoes…so just an empty sack, really. But it's an empty sack with form and I'm not sure why I'm so hung up on this

ANYWAY

"I'm still working on it." I admit. "It has some kinks that need to be worked out."

"Yeah?" Frieda strokes her chin.

"Is there a reason for your question?" Aria asks politely.

"Should be pretty obvious." Frieda says. "I'll buy that armor from ya. Name your price."

…huh. Well, let's play with the idea a little. The material cost came to 250 gold, so let's go high. "A thousand."

"Done."

Ye-wut?

 _Frieda's response was instant, immediate, and delivered without a shred of hesitation. It was so assured that we had a little trouble keeping up._

No kidding. "Excuse me?" I ask for confirmation.

"Done." She repeats…and shows me the bracer. There's a vicious-looking gash on the bracer, but it doesn't look like it's pierced the material. "Your bracer saved my ass, so I have faith in your armor." She says firmly. "I'll take it at any price."

 _It's worth noting that she's not exactly quiet._

Yeah. Aria and Mell are pretty girls, and I'm not exactly what you would call 'normal' when I sit in the open and sew all day. Our table attracts a lot of attention during meal times, and this time is no exception. Between the young men sneaking peeks at the girls, young women sneaking peeks at Jake, mercenaries looking to make a little extra gold as hired hands, and barmaids looking to make some more money…our table gets plenty of PR.

While I wasn't here at the time, I assume Freida's entrance and subsequent joining of our table attracted even more eyes, and the inn was (likely) notably more subdued when it became clear that she came to talk to me.

Point is, there is now a lot more interest than before in the cuirass I just made.

And to be honest, I'm not sure how to handle the attention. "Well…uh…I can put some finishing touches on it and have it ready by tonight, I guess." I scratch my head. "Seriously though, why?"

"Why?" Frieda grins and slams her mug of ale on the table—also, daydrinking? "So, I was out hunting these bandit folk with my team, right?"

 _Aria perks up at the mention of bandits._

"Asshole bunch, the lot of them." Frieda continues. "I think they were stealing local livestock." _Aria deflates._

"Good riddance!" Some other patron yells to general agreement.

"Damn straight!" Frieda yells back. "So we were out hunting these guys, and we find them at their camp, and then we kick their asses."

I can see where this is going. "So what went wrong?"

Frieda's immediately sheepish. "Well…I _may_ have gotten a little bit over my head." She rubs the bracer absentmindedly. "We get ambushed by their second team, I think, and one of them gets a real good swing on my face. I blocked like this—" She demonstrates blocking with her bracer-arm, "But I seriously thought I was a goner."

"That cut doesn't look too deep." Jake observes.

"That cut came from a great axe." Frieda says, her eyes a bit wider. "I thought I was going to lose my head." She adds after it becomes apparently that the majority of the listeners don't believe her.

…Ok, well, if it made her willing to pay a seriously marked up price for armor… "I…tentatively believe you." I say slowly.

"Thanks." Frieda says hesitantly. "I understand that it sounds outlandish, but I am beyond glad I bought this thing." She says…sincerely. I think she's sincere. "So I would like a proper set of armor just like it." She takes off the bracer.

…Again, if it makes her pay up. "Sure…though it might take me a while to finish it."

"How long will it take?" She asks seriously. "Just for that current piece; our group is leaving by tomorrow."

Erk. "Uh…I'll have it finished by today." It's not like me to make assertive statements, but it's also not like me to avoid finishing a paying job, either.

"I'll come by during the evening then." She says. "And I'd like it if you could repair this, too." She gestures to the bracer.

…Well. "Yeah, I'll do that. Until evening, then."

 _She finishes her ale, gives the others a polite nod of farewell, and makes her way out of the room._

And the whispering begins…mostly of how she may be drunk by noon.

"So…do you think she was being honest?" Jake asks us in a whisper. "Like, that thing legit protecting her from having her fuckin' head cut off?"

 _Mell scoffs._

I mean… "We can take her word for it? When was the last time you haggled in order to spend _more_ money?"

The girls concede that I had a point. Jake just shrugs because that's a thing he's actually done before…albeit to a lemonade stand being run by an eight year old.

Anyways.

 _We pick up the bracer._

Let's see here…the gash pierced three of the four layers I had built. The only one left is the thin layer of cloth I had placed between the leather and the arm that would be wrapped by it… So… yeah, the hit that impacted the bracer was definitely strong, but since it's only three layers of leather—and not even particularly great leather at that—it's pretty hard to get an after-the-fact read on how much damage was mitigated.

…Still, this is gonna take a while. "We might have to postpone the writing thing." I say to Jake. "Can you and Mell run me some errands?"

"No prob." Jake says readily.

"I guess I can." Mell shrugs. "What are you looking for?"

…

 _We finish breakfast and Aria excuses herself to go and do her job._

I leave Rorikstead a little to find a nice patch of grass and a tree stump. I rope off the area and set what's left of my materials on the ground.

Ok. Planning time.

I'll probably have to do some post production support after finishing the armor so it'll fit better, which means I should not worry about that now. The lady gets into some scraps, and by her own words she's a close range fighter. The current Cuirass isn't bad, but I have no idea how well it will stand up to a solid hit. That lumber axe hit didn't count because the armor _didn't_ stand up to the hit.

…Or maybe it did and I'm just not properly appreciating the knowledge. Either way.

Bracer first, armor second.

Let's get to it.

…

…

 _We get to work and only stop when it's late afternoon._

…

…

Whew.

"Damn." Jake whistles.

 _He and Mell have been visiting the worksite on and off. For the majority of the day they're sitting and chatting elsewhere or practicing with their combat skills. In other times we use them to buy stuff for us._

Yeah…either way, it's finished!

The Cuirass is two large pieces joined by leather straps. The straps themselves are covered by a layer of reinforced leather. The larger pieces—arguably the bulk of the armor—are comprised of three layers. There's an inner, soft-cloth layer for comfort, the outer layer that was the pre-exiting Cuirass (complete with the small but tough section of weave I added). The middle layer is new, and took me the most time to complete.

So I'm a bit tired.

Anyway.

It's a woven mesh, much like the weave on the outer layer. It's not as meticulously made since I'm strapped for time, but it covers the entire body. I did pay extra attention to the vital areas so it's tougher there. The mesh is made of yarn, but with some strands of the yarn Replaced with steel, making it a very granular version of chainail. Chainmail.

I made a test version of this mesh and strapped it onto a yarn for testing, and then I had Jake punt the melon into a wall. The melon exploded, so I don't know what that means. I then had him take a knife to a second melon and see what happens. The mesh works pretty well in that instance, since Jake had serious issues making cuts onto it.

Layered on the very top is an optional layer of fur, which helps break up the silhouette and grants some additional protection to the arms, which my armor leaves bare.

Still, I have confidence that the armor will be hella tough, despite being not metal.

Really tired now.

Sleeping.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Ash falls asleep shortly after making his armor, and is still out cold by the time Frieda shows up to pick up her gear.

"'sup." Jake greets her. "He's tired, let him sleep." He adds as Frieda seemed like she wanted to talk to him. She seemed a little under-excited, compared to her display earlier in the inn. "Something wrong?"

"I seem to have been a bit overeager with my request." Frieda says slightly apologetically. "So, is this it?" She asks, her glittering eyes fixed on the suit of armor sitting on the stump that used to be Ash's chair. She completely ignored its sleeping crafter not two feet from the armor.

"You got it." Jake takes the armor and stands, properly offering it to Frieda. "I'll wake him up to do the finishing touches, but first we need to get your measurements."

Frieda agrees readily. "Aye." She had showed up without armor in her haste (and after the last fight, it was too damaged to be salvageable anyway). She dons the heavier-than-expected Leather Cuirass, and notes to Jake the many areas that would need to be tweaked so as to fit her better.

"But still, what an incredible piece of work." Frieda breathes. The best armor she's had up until now was a set of old and battered Imperial Studded Armor. It was on the floor of her inn. "Just incredible."

"Fitting aside, I'm glad you like it." Jake grins. "Him too, I'm sure."

"It's strangely warm, too." Frieda marvels. "Despite not having any sleeves." She'll have to pick up her own arm guards for that. She does retrieve the bracer, and note that it hadn't lost its strange warmth, despite it looking a little different. Ash had taken some liberties with its repair in order to save time.

"Yeah, he got too wrapped up in making the main chest armor to do anything else." Jake laughs. "Do you want him to make the fitting change now, or…?"

Frieda's smile fades some. "Um…about that. I may have acted too rashly when I accepted the offer of a thousand septims for the armor."

Jake understands. "A bit steep, yeah?"

Freida's response is a nervous laugh. 1000 gold is not unusual for armor…if you were purchasing a full set of steel. That said, 1000 gold _would not_ purchase a set of armor that was custom-made, since the costs of full fitting and artisan customization would be factored in as well.

A set of full leather, not just a mere body piece, would run at 250 gold at most. The skills of an amateur did not cost a full thousand.

…That said.

"What a dilemma." Frieda mutters to herself. "I made that big show in front of everyone…"

Jake had a more pressing question. "So just to be sure, you _can_ pay for it if you wanted to."

"Yes." Frieda says in confusion. "Though a thousand septims is still steep."

Jake nods agreement. "Ok then. I have a plan."

…

[1st Person Camera, Next Day, 1st Person Camera]

…

Ok, so I think I fell asleep right after I finished making the armor, because my face hurts.

Also, Aria has pinned down the bandit's lair, so we're gonna go clear that out after lunch, because we're going to spend the morning to prepare. To wit, I'll be giving all our gear a once-over, Mell will be stocking potions and bandages, and Aria will be prepping strategy with Jake and Frieda.

 _Um?_

Frieda had a slight change of heart. Jake talked her into joining the bandit clearing mission (thus getting a cut of the final profit) in exchange for paying the full price of the armor plus an additional 100 gold for the fitting.

I would have been ok with letting her pay something more reasonable, to be honest.

"I know." Jake had said when I pointed this out. "Which is why this is a deal, rather than you sticking to your guns."

Also I had entirely forgotten that gold is technically called 'septims' in Skyrim. I will likely never remember to call it that.

Anyhoo…the fitting process went just fine. The cuirass fits a lot better after an hour of tweaking thanks to the input of a local armorsmith. It's simple in hindsight, but a better fitting armor moves around less, which means the person swinging their weapon would lose less energy to their armor…and it would mean that the armor protected the part of the body it was meant to protect. I had originally intended to keep the armor a bit loose for the additional 'give' against incoming strikes, but obviously I was a bit naïve.

Either way, Frieda's armor now fit better. As for everyone else…Mell's armor is impeccable, which…is interesting, I guess? Aria's is fine since she does her own adjustments. Jake's is pretty stock and so a better fit would be nice, but I didn't have the experience to do it and have time left over for weapon adjustments.

Most of the weapon adjustments were done on Frieda's great axe. I gave it a better edge and replaced the handle (and then Replaced the inside of the handle near the head with an iron core). It's a little heavier, but the weight profile is still the same, so she got used to it without problems.

 _We gave half of the fitting cost (50 gold) to the guy that gave us tips._

With that, we're off!

…

[3rd Person Camera, Whiterun]

…

Lars Battle-Born was running. Well, he was jogging, but he fancied himself running.

With the Gleaming Sword (as he called it) on his back, he felt quite heroic, and took it upon himself to exercise one of his many fancies. He also wanted a little hat (maybe green?) but Idolaf wouldn't let him. It still felt good to run with the sword on his back, though.

"Out on patrol today, eh Lars?" A guard says good naturedly as Lars approached him. "Give the bad guys a good licking, you hear?"

"Yeah!" Lars replies with a raised arm as he passes by (and trips slightly).

"That boy's got heart." The Guard's buddy (Guard B) laughs. "Pity he's a Battle-Born."

"You got that right." Guard A replies with a bit of a sigh. The two of them were in the Grey-Mane camp, but were the kind that would rather see reconciliation over the two sides killing each other. "He's going to grow up to be a big part of Whiterun."

"If only Braith would leave him alone." Guard B laughs as he watch the girl in question interrupt Lar's running path. "Think they'll get married in the future?"

"The son of the Battle-Borns and the mongrel of a Redguard?" Guard A sniffs. "I can see better matches."

Guard B chuckles. "Didn't that Redguard kick your ass yesterday?"

"Yes, and I'm still bitter." Guard A says. "Fuck off."

Guard B good-naturedly claps his friend in the back. He stretches, craning his neck upwards, and sees some weirdly-shaped bird outlined by the bright noon sun.

"We got some weird looking birds today." He says conversationally.

Guard A looks up out of habit. He squints against the sun to see the weird bird.

"It seems a bit bony to be a bird." Guard A says slowly after it grew a bit.

"Yeah?" Guard B has already looked elsewhere.

"Yeah…" Guard A felts something at the bottom of his stomach. Fear? No, that wasn't quite it…it was closer to expectation. But what was he expecting? "…Something's coming."

"Is it your wife?" Guard B says with a lazy yawn.

"We should warn the lookouts."

Guard B was now instantly on attention. If his friend ignored a barb (and a very stupid one at that) then the situation was likely going to be extremely serious. "Right."

They didn't need to have bothered. A baritone call of a horn reverberated through the streets of Whiterun.

The two guards' felt their blood freeze. The horn was a brand new addition to the lookout towers' arsenal, and was meant to be used for precisely one reason and one reason only. The Steward of the city even took the pains to alert the entire city as to what the horn meant, and had everyone draw plans that "maybe, possibly" could be used for such an event.

"Oh, fuck me." Guard A growls and unhooks his bow. "Everyone! Indoors! NOW!"

A Dragon has come to visit Whiterun.

…

 _That would be a totally great place to stop but we're gonna keep going_

…

The Dragon Mirmulnir swoops upon Whiterun from a near-vertical dive and dive-bomb the square at the center of the city, landing on top of the temple to Kynerath and collapsing its ceiling.

"{I come, humans.}" It growls in its draconic language. "{I hunger for your warriors.}"

"FUCKING KILL IT!" Some guards yell in response. The guards and hunters on scene—totaling roughly 30 units—all drew their bow and loosed arrows.

"{Good!}" Mirmulnir raises, then slams his wings into the ground, creating a massive gust of wind that blew the arrows off course. It also blew the archers off their feet, as they were not expecting the sudden counter. He then rears his head back. " **Yol, Toor, Shul!** "

The grounded archers had no chance to scramble away from the sudden blast of fire that enveloped them. Mirmulnir cooked his enemies to a crisp, and then, with a powerful kick of his legs, was once again airborne.

And then a rock flew at its face.

Given the dragon's rather agile neck the boulder sails through without making contact, achieving only the task of making Mirmulnir curious against the new threat. The culprit—a catapult mounted on the walls of the city—found itself underneath the shadow of the dragon soon enough.

"Reload, reload!" The sergeant commanding the catapult yells. "He's coming here!"

Mirmulnir simply drops onto the catapult with his weight and crushes it under his feet. With another fire breath, he chars its crew to ashes. "{A fine sport.}" He growls, and takes flight again. "{But unworthy.}"

By now, the entire city has come alive, and guards in all sections of the city ready their bows to intercept this flying monstrosity. Each section of the city had multiple watch towers. While the towers are not high, they were made of stone and thus were quite durable.

"He's coming!" The temple section tower's watchman yells. "Fire!"

Mirmulnir banks to avoid the flurry of arrows being sent his way by over a hundred archers on the ground. "Good." He growls, baring his teeth in a draconic smile. "Worthy of attention." He gets a little extra altitude and then beats his wings once.

The archers on the ground saw the action and braced for some incoming attack. While some of the archers were unbalanced by the wind, most stayed on their feet and readied for a second strike.

Mirmulnir was a bit faster. With the time he gained from his act, he homes in on the watchtower and flies right above the stone structure. While the majority of the structure was stone, the roof was mere wood. Mirmulnir tears through the wood with his talons, grabs the watchman on duty, and toss the man high into the air. He then takes off into the sky again, evading another flurry off arrows sent his way.

This time a few of the arrows struck home. Mirmulnir felt some pricks in his body but summarily ignored them. He, with his age and experience, would only fall to a specially crafted weapon or a superbly skilled warrior. Guards and hunters with no experience against one such as himself would find themselves woefully outclassed. Still, they had honored him by wounding him, even if it was a little.

Mirmulnir smiles again. "{Good. Worthy.}" He flies up high, at an angle to Whiterun, and then tucks in his wings.

"The fuck is he doing?" A guard gripes at the dragon flying far too high for his bow to reach.

Mirmulnir begins his descent towards Whiterun and then opens his jaws again.

" **Wuld Nah Kest!** "

The dragon that seemed so far away suddenly approached at a speed that was utterly impossible to believe. Although the guards expected the dragon to plow into the city (and maybe break its neck on the way down) Mirmulnir did no such thing. Instead, he zoomed low and level across the city's rooftops, bringing with him an incomparably powerful blast of wind.

Roofs tore from the houses, badly erected walls collapsed, lit braziers topped over, and people were blown off their feet and slammed onto the ground. With that one blow, a quarter of Whiterun was in pandemonium. As Mirmulnir pulled up and away from the walls of Whiterun, parts of the city began to smoke.

And he wasn't done.

" **Sul Grah Dun!** "

Nothing happened on the ground. And besides, the people of Whiterun were a little busy being dazed by that almost supersonic charge.

" **Krii Lun Aus!** "

Some of the more veteran warriors and guards felt something pass over them, and a sense of dread began to build. The people pouring out onto the street for fear that their houses would collapse felt no such change, though some indistinguishable element made them even more nervous, resulting in even more panic.

"BACK INTO YOUR HOUSES!" Some of the veteran warriors roared in an effort to clear the streets.

" **Yol Toor Shul!"**

The blast of fire that descended upon Whiterun could be classed as a calamity. Mirmulnir allowed his fire breath to be guided by his flight path, and he cut a wide swath into the heart of the city.

From a bird's eye view, the damage was honestly not that severe. Mirmulnir was roughly the size of a large house (like the Battle-Born manse), and of those Whiterun had several. Though his presence was sending the city into an utter panic, the actual damage he was doing was rather localized. For the people in the localized area, that information would not have helped them in the slightest.

Mirmulnir's attack raked over a series of houses and set them ablaze. The fire caught the civilians on the road, turning them into torches that fed into the confusion and terror. If nothing else, their screaming told the rest of the civilians to stay the hell away from the battlefield, and soon, as the screaming died out, so did the resistance.

"{Good!}" Mirmulnir laughs, the sound coming out as a rumble that reverberated through the street. "{Roasts are good.}" He lands in the middle of the carnage he created, shocking the remaining people untouched by his flames.

One guard fell to his feet. "M…monster…" He says while scrambling back on his rear. "It's a monster…Run! RUN!"

Mirmulnir leaps forward and snap the guard into his jaws. He then swallows said guard in the next instant, before the other guards in attendance could act. The other guards wouldn't have acted anyway; the shock and awe of the attack had worked too well.

Still, they were not broken.

"I-it's just one of them!" A guard sergeant tries to rally his men. "And it's on the ground! A-Attack!" He draws his sword and takes a few shaky steps forward.

A glare from Mirmulnir then roots the Sergeant to the spot.

" **Faas Ru Maar!** "

The twenty other guards in attendance, previously tottering between attacking or retreating, all simultaneously and overwhelmingly chose to retreat. They, as one, toss their weapons and escape, an unseen terror snapping at their minds.

The Sergeant was an exception, as his fear rooted him to the spot.

Mirmulnir ate him too.

…

"Lars!? Lars?!"

Elsewhere in the city, Jon and Idolaf Battle-Born were running through the street. The Dragon attack had caught them all unawares, and the two of them had made a simultaneous decision to try and find the youngest member of their household. The two of them had saw the dragon descend upon the city and had immediately beelined towards the area.

After a short while—a far too short while—the sounds of battle ceased, replaced by mere screaming and burning. It was…not exactly comforting, since neither of them saw the dragon take off and leave, which meant it was still loitering in the city somewhere. Each time they rounded a corner they expected to see the dragon's face staring at them.

Lars, as it turns out, was uncomfortably close to the dragon, separated by a single house. He was hiding behind some crates and was (understandably) terrified, as a. the dragon was fucking scary, and b. he saw the sergeant get eaten.

Still, his hiding spot was being progressively more compromised by encroaching flames. As much as he would simply like to just curl up until the danger escaped, he knew that he was running out of time.

In the eerie calm that now surrounds him, Lars heard two things that made him perk up. One of the new sounds was someone shouting his name. It was faint, barely audible over the ever-louder crackling of fire. The ambient noise caused him to both discard the sound as a hallucination and fight the urge to reply.

The other sound was faint—but very real—crying.

Lars tried to pinpoint the source of the crying, but considering the circumstances…he was quite unsuccessful. After some seconds of trying, he shifted his focus to the dragon in order to find a way to escape.

Mirmulnir also heard the crying. His ability to pinpoint it was much higher than Lars's, and more importantly the crying was distracting him from his task of savaging the charred corpses on the ground (he liked their crunchiness). Thus, he looked around for the source of the sound.

Seeing the dragon's neck turn and flex, Lars decided to take a chance. He leaves his hiding spot while crouching low, just like Jon had showed him, and quickly scurries away. With his footsteps obscured by the sound of everything around him burning to the ground, he makes his escape without issue.

Or at least, he would have, if his curiosity didn't get the better of him. Now that he was out of immediate danger, Lars spared a glance to his right a second before he turned left. He saw the source of the crying as a blur before he turned away.

Mirmulnir saw it too. Or, rather, the source of the crying had walked into his line of sight and, upon seeing the visage of the big hungry dragon, froze to the spot. It was the remnants of a family escaping from a burning home—three sisters. The oldest sister was badly burned and looked as though she had sheltered her two much younger siblings against the worst of the fire. The youngest sister had a vicious-looking wound on her leg, caused by a piece of falling, scorching debris. She had held together well for the past five minutes, but the six year old had a breaking point, and she had long surpassed it despite the middle sister's best efforts to cover her mouth.

"{Prey.}" Mirmulnir growls with a note of pity. "{Worthless.}" His growl seemed to rouse the middle sister, who moved herself in front of her wounded siblings. "{But worthy of respect.}" Mirmulnir revises his thoughts, and approaches them imperiously.

Lars, after seeing the girls, had continued to run, but very quickly stopped. On one hand, he wanted to get away. It was too scary, too strange. On the other…

He, without really thinking about it, put his hand on his Gleaming Sword, and drew it. He again felt the familiar, reassuring warmth of the sword, and stared into the ruby embedded in the hilt.

Lars has read his share of stories, and has certainly read his share of heroic tales. When danger comes, there is always a hero that appears to save the day. The stories of Emperor Martin Septim and his Champion were Lar's favorites, and he considered that Champion—fictional he may be—to be worth aspiring to. Though the current situation blew the minute details of those stories clean from his head, the fact that the Champion appeared at the city of Kvatch at its darkest hour and bravely fought to save it was still clear in his mind.

 _Nevermind that Kvatch took a good thirty years to be rebuilt after the Oblivion Crisis._

Now, in his own hometown, there was a crisis right behind him. Could he, a Battle-Born, abandon the people in need?

A small voice in his head told him that: yes, he could. He was still a child with none of the experience and equipment required to stand near a dragon, much less fight it. Nobody would fault him for escaping, and everyone would be happy that he survived. Nobody would know he was here, and nobody would blame him for an additional three deaths in a tragedy of hundreds.

Lars ran his hand over the ruby and whispered softly, "I would."

"{Oh?}" Mirmulnir says appraisingly. The small boy that had hid from him one street over had run back with a sword in his hand. "{Brave. Very brave, for prey.}" He grins. "{Will you charge at me?}"

It was taking all of Lar's effort to just stand in front of the massive dragon before him, and the fact that it seemed to be chuckling was doing him and his shaking legs no favors. "Get up!" He says, his already high pitched voice cracking. "Get out of here!" He keeps his eyes fixed on the dragon, ignoring every warning sign in his body. He raises the Gleaming Sword at the dragon, forcing himself to ignore the now very evident size difference between his little poking stick and the monster before him.

"{Very brave indeed.}" Mirmulnir stops his advance, well out of Lar's reach, as a sign of respect. The girls don't move, because the sight of the dragon has drained all of their morale, and the wounds weren't exactly making things easy. At least the six year old stopped crying.

Mirmulnir openly laughed now, the guttural roar deeply terrorizing the young man. "{You have heart, young human.}" He says. "I shall honor your sacrifice, and grant you your gift." His neck rears back, his intent of unleashing fire as clear as day.

 _This is it!_ Lars realizes through clenched teeth. _It's time to act!_ He readies his sword in a lunging position, like Jon always does, and with the mightiest yell his little body can create, Lars Battle-Born charges toward the dragon.

Jon and Idolaf heard Lar's shout and sprinted full speed. The youngest of their family was about to do something stupid and they were _not_ in the mood to have that happen. The two of them rounded the corner as they saw the dragon's head rear back and knew, despite their efforts to sprint into the fray, that they were too late.

" **Yol…Tool…Shul!"**

Mirmulnir dragged his syllables for a blast of fire that was more concentrated, but had a smaller blast radius. The old warrior part of him felt like the small boy deserved the warrior's death that he apparently wanted so much. That there will not be enough of him left to memorialize is…sad, but convenient.

Lars, upon the brief moment of seeing the incoming fire, had only one thought, and it was of the three girls behind him.

 _I must protect them._

As the thought rang through his head, the ruby embedded in his sword glistened, then glowed a bright, fiery red.

Jon and Idolaf watch the breath strike home and engulf the four children.

"No…" Idolaf comes to a stop and sinks to his knees.

"No…" Jon comes to a stop as well, but he watches the breath with a furious scowl. He palms his axe, readying himself for a charge on the dragon.

Both of them then notice something odd. The stream of fire looked like it was coming up against some barrier. Like a rushing stream of water flowing against a rock, the fire, at a very specific point, grew wider.

Mirmulnir himself was surprised as well, and cut his fire breath early.

"What in the eight is that?" Jon breathes.

Before them, Lars still stood. The boy was wreathed in a cloak of sky blue…something, some kind of energy. It seemed to emit from the sword, as the sword itself formed both a shield of that power in front of Lars and a blade of that power extending from itself.

Mirmulnir had never seen a response like this before. It was not a physical act, and it certainly did not feel like a magical skill. He wasn't about to take any chances, and beats his wings on the ground once.

The blast of wind strikes Jon and Idolaf in the face. They didn't care. Instead, they were focused on the blue energy, and how it shimmered, but held in the face of the dragon's wind.

Lars did not flinch.

Mirmulnir knew an abnormality when he saw one, and wasn't about to overstay his welcome.

" **Wuld Nah Kest!"**

Mirmulnir bullets from the ground into the sky, wheels away, and flies off into the distance.

Lars continued to maintain his striking posture even as Lars and Idolaf scrambled over to him.

"Lars!" Idolaf pants, disregards whatever the energy is supposed to be, and pulls the boy into a close hug. "My gods, Lars! You fool! Are you unhurt?!" Upon Idolaf's action, the blue energy dissipates like mist.

Jon, seeing that Idolaf has this thing handled (more or less), goes for the girls instead.

Lars dropped the Gleaming Sword. "Grandfather…" He says confusedly, then seems to remember where he was and quickly turn to the girls. "Are they alright?" He asks Jon.

"I'm not good at this kind of stuff." Jon says while performing some Lay on Hands on the girls. "But this should patch up some of the small injuries; can you walk?" He asks the eldest, who nods, and stands with some difficulty.

Lars hurriedly runs over to help the middle sister, who seems to be too shocked to stand.

Jon carries the youngest.

"Let's get them back to the Battle-Born house." Idolaf says after a calming breath. "We have a lot to talk about."

"Right." Jon nods and leads the way with a reassuring "Come on, easy does it."

As Jon ushers away the kids, Idolaf picks up the Gleaming Sword, as Lars called it, and examines the worksmanship again. As he saw from before, there was nothing unusual about the sword. He knew Lars had a penchant—some may even say talent—for the magical arts, but the kid had no training, and even less experience. To create a ward at all would have been an impossible feat.

 _…And yet, he did._ Idolaf frowns slightly. _So what do I make of that?_ He glances at the sword again, and was surprised to find it covered with an ever-growing spider web of cracks. In front of his eyes, the ruby encrusted in the sword crack, shatter, and vaporize into a fine mist. The entirety of the blade soon followed, leaving him with a wreck of a hilt.

"Ain't that a surprise." Idolaf murmurs. "So the sword is to blame in the end?" He strokes his chin. The sword came from an inexperienced smith who worked at Warmaiden's, if he remembered correctly. He was out of town at the moment, but he could put a word with the guard to tell him if the greenhorn artisan ever came back.

Idolaf did not, in good faith, believe that the sword could project a ward, much less one that could stop dragonfire. That said, Lars had wielded the sword and survived…

…so having another sword wouldn't exactly be a _bad_ thing, would it?

…

[Dragonsreach]

…

Jarl Balgruuf received the news with nothing short of fury on his face. The dragon attack had lasted at most fifteen minutes, and there were at least two hundred casualties, not counting those lost to the fires the dragon had caused. Fires that were, at the moment, still raging.

"The bulk of the guard is busy fighting the fires." His Steward reports. "I don't have to tell you that their morale has completely crumbled."

The guards were understandably frustrated that a dragon came, raised hell, and then left long before they could muster anything remotely close to a coordinated response. Losing nearly fifty of their numbers in that short span of time was highly unpleasant icing on an already bitter cake.

"I can imagine." Balgruuf snarls. "Why did the dragon leave?"

"We don't know." His Housecarl, Irileth, says. "But the watchers in the towers say that there was some flash of blue light in the combat area. We can investigate at your command."

"Save it for later." Balgruuf waves it away. "Where is the dragon going?"

"Rorikstead."

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

DUN DUN DUN~


	6. The Rorikstead or Whiterun Experience?

{ === + === }

So, our intrepid group of adventurers set off for the bandit's lair!

According to Aria, the trip there will take about six hours or so. Less if we're hurrying, which we are. We're also on foot, because a cart would reveal our position…apparently.

 _The bandit camp is northeast._

So we're heading to the base of the mountain range that separates the northern side of Skyrim with the southern side. I assume it also provides environmental cover against the north winds and keep the cold on that side. Or something.

…We travel for a good hour before Aria suddenly sighs out of nowhere.

"We're being followed." Frieda agrees with Aria's sigh. "Should we take care of him?" She pats the hilt of her trusty battleaxe for emphasis.

"Let's see what he wants first." Aria says and slows down. "And besides, it looks like we could use a break." She adds with a glance at Mell and me. We're both suffering a bit because we're not used to Forced Marching.

So we find a nice place to sit down. I take this time to take a seat that conveniently faces the person who's…from a distance it's a bit hard to tell, but he looks like…a Nordic dude who may or may not be the most physically fit guy around. As a (still) skinny Chinese man, I shouldn't judge like that.

We wait for a minute before he reaches us.

"I've finally caught up!" He says cheerily. He's heaving a little, so he's definitely got a decent pair of lungs.

So now that we're closer…he's…kind of like, y'know, Skyrim Nord A, but definitely younger and leaner. Like, a lot younger and leaner, actually. He's wearing a simple cloth tunic (farmer favorite) and ragged, patched-many-times-over pants. I have an idea as to who this is, I think.

 _His eyes linger over Aria and (especially) Mell's chest as he scans all of us with a beaming face._

"Who are you and what do you want with us?" Mell demands. Her hostility is possibly because she met his gaze.

"Uh, hi, I-I'm Erik." He says and coughs. "I heard that you, uh, you were going to do some good for Rorikstead and, uh—"

I know of precisely one Erik in Rorikstead and I know exactly what his sub quest may be. "So why do you want to go adventuring with us?" I also don't know why I haven't seen him around town yet. Maybe it's because I spent the days working. Also maybe because I don't remember what his family Inn was called and thus was nowhere near his place of residence.

Erik is suitably surprised that we guessed his goal for coming here. "W-well, uhm. I mean, I want to become an adventurer like you." He says to Aria. I think he wants something a little more personal than that, but then so do all of us, so eh.

 _Um…_

I know we have a no-touch clause. Shush.

"And so you think the best way to do this is to…accompany us." Jake asks for clarification. "As we dive into a pit of bandits and assholes with sharp weapons."

"I!" Erik takes out his axe—looks like a repurposed lumbering axe—and gives it a few swings and oh my god is he bad at this "I can fight!" He insists as all of us stare at him worryingly.

I mean if I can tell that he's bad at this then he must be _really_ bad at this.

 _He's like us when we were that age._

Yeah, just noticeably more white.

"I don't know about this." Mell gives voice to her wide-eyed worry and looks to us for confirmation.

I think I know how this ends. "You plan to follow us even if we tell you 'no', right?" Judging by what got us here…

Erik nods vigorously. Yep.

"Alright, fine." Aria sighs and gets up. "You follow our orders without question." She commands. "Ash, you're in charge of him."

Mmm…"Aye." It's probably for the best that he stays on the back line. "Are you good with two-handed axes?" I ask Erik.

"No." He says truthfully before trying to lie. "I mean, yes! Yes, it's no different from a pitchfork, right?"

"He's fucked." Jake laughs.

I hand Erik the Battleaxe of cold, because let's be honest I'm not using that shit any time soon. "Here you go, now follow our orders because we're actually going to kill humans."

…

We travel for another two hours before we reach the bandit lair, so I guess we're not really killing humans just yet. It's worth noting that Erik holds the axe as if it was a…uh…the piece of wood that you carry over your shoulder horizontally so you can balance two buckets on either end. It likely has a professional term but I do not know what it is.

Either way, we've hit the foothills of the hills and have…scrambled around some large rocks to a depression in the ground. It's no convenient shaft mine and is more like an open quarry. There is, however, a wooden door that shows the sign of a deeper, more Skyrim-Conventional shaft mine on the polar opposite of our current position. If our current position is the south of the mine, then the door would be north.

The open-air mine itself is dotted with bedrolls and lean-tos of leather, with the occasional campfire here and there. There are some racks of kills (mostly deer) in various states of processing, and men wearing scrap leather and fur armor mill around, tending to their own business. If I had to guess, I'd say that this outside area houses at most twenty bandits. I don't know how many would be inside the shaft, but I assume there wouldn't be that many.

Our current position to the south of the camp is…a fairly difficult entrance. The eastern side is the easiest by virtue of there being a lack of giant spiky rocks to block our approach. That said, this does allow for us to get the element of surprise.

Bonus: these guys don't have archers on watch at all. That means we can

 _Aria draws and charges right in._

Get started right now OK THEN

 _Jake follows Aria with his greatsword._

We've snuck surprisingly close to the camp, so their charge time is basically nil. The bandits have barely begun to react as Aria reaches and cuts down the first one.

 _Frieda follows after with a sulky "unbelievable"._

Oh good god Aria is beastly. She's…when you're on the outside looking in, the Dragonborn stomping down mere Bandits is seriously terrifying. I think the fact that the bodies actually come apart probably has something to do with it.

 _Aria and Jake are both quite surprised that their blades are cutting so well. For some rather obvious reasons (like being too far away to see) we don't realize this._

By the time the bandits have raised something akin to a general alarm over half are dead or dying.

The three of us…are in no hurry to actually jump into a fight. Aria left her bow with us, which I task to Erik because he's the most lightly equipped and has the strongest draw among us.

Still, Erik isn't keen on shooting humans, and by the time he's managed to summon up the courage the three frontliners have cleared the entire camp, sans one. The last bandit escaped into the shaft mine, so whoever is down there now knows we're coming.

 _Fun fact?_

Fun fact: there was one instance where Erik could have made meaningful contribution to the battle. An Argonian bandit snuck up behind Aria and had all intentions to shank her with a dagger. Aria backhand _threw_ her sword straight into the Argonian's skull, drew a spare short sword, and then proceed to just keep on killing. I assume the Argonian died on impact, or else Frieda's coup-de-grace finished him off. Her off? I can't tell from a distance and up close there're too much blood and body parts to tell properly.

I should note that Jake and Frieda are stronger and better armed (weapon damage-wise) but Aria has more kills than the two put together.

…Still. Scary Special Girl is Scary.

"I didn't see anyone that resembled a leader." Aria says, eyeing the door. "We may have to go in. Jake, collect the dead."

"Aye." Jake takes out a scroll with what I think is the bounty written on it. He walks from bandit to bandit and uses small bits of their armor leather or fur to dab their blood onto the scroll. He mostly focuses on their heads rather than the separate pieces of arm and leg.

When the blood hits the scroll, the scroll glows a little bit.

 _He finishes his collection and shows us the bounty._

The scroll now has some very out of place triangles and squares lined up on the bottom. Fifteen triangles, five squares.

"This is how we track our bounty kills." Jake explains for my benefit. "It's pretty neat, macabre implications aside." It looks and feels rather like soul trapping, so yeah, I agree.

"I'm impressed." Frieda marvels at Aria as the latter's cleaning her sword (on dead bandit armor). "Your sword arm is impeccable, and your strategies more so."

That is a good point. A part of why Jake has way less kills is likely because he seemed to have been playing a supporting role to Aria's assault. I can't say for sure, but it feels like they have some experience executing it.

"Jake calls it a 'blitzkrieg'." Aria says. "Lightning War. I like it."

Let's refocus the conversation before Germany gets in the way. "So, what happens to the mine?"

"We need to clear it." Aria says. "Since mines tend to be dark and unlit places—especially if they're expecting company—we'll need to go carefully. Jake."

"Yep." Jake holsters his greatsword and picks up a hand axe from one of the dead bandits. "Ash, can you help me real quick?" He gestures to the axe. "Sharpen this thing?"

"Yeah." I have a small grindstone with me.

 _We quickly put a little bit of an edge to the axe._

It's a twenty second job, so I can't be thorough. Probably a better job than what the bandits had access to, though.

"Mell, Ash, get torches." Aria orders. "Jake, Frieda, and myself will take point. Erik will guard the rear."

"The two of us will provide light, eh?" I nod. "Make sense."

"I also have potions." Mell notes. "So tell me if you need anything."

After another minute of preparation—mostly involving getting the torches collected and lit—we descend into the mines.

Ten feet in and it's dark as night. I don't like this one bit. That said, thanks to the torches we can see pretty well, and thus we can get a decent understanding of the terrain in question.

It's a very straightforward tunnel…very wide, too. Wide enough for five people to stand side-by-side, so there's plenty of room for us to maneuver. There doesn't seem to be any side paths, though the tunnel does narrow as it descends downwards.

At the tunnel's deepest part, it narrows into a doorway of sorts and then expands out into a large, boss-fight room. I can't see the specific details, but the flickering lights inside that boss room implies the existence of a fire source.

Also on the threshold of the doorway is a bear trap.

"Easy." Aria sneers and disarms the bear trap with little effort. "We're going in."

"Yep." Jake says. He, Frieda, and Aria take our remaining torches. The two girls light them with a blast of magical Flames then toss the batch of suddenly lit torches into the room.

With the sudden increase in light, I can see…quite a lot of random clutter on the ground in the form of scrap metals, large rocks, empty pots…trash scattered to hamper movement, no doubt.

Facing our advance party is a team of three plus one. There's one heavily armored bandit (the boss, maybe), two lighter armored guards of his, and one terribly armored bandit that ran in from the outside. They seem unpleasantly surprised by this sudden influx of illumination.

"Get them!" Aria commands and then beelines for the bandit boss. Frieda and Jake both take one guard each. Normally this would mean that the last bandit would be left for one of us (Erik) to take on, but Aria threw her longsword at him so fast his death could have been ruled an accident.

Aria is scary.

…

Thirty seconds later, the three of them have murdered the bejesus out of the rest of the bandits. Jake collects a piece of their souls.

"Mission complete." Jake shows me the scroll. It now has a golden trim around the edges that definitely wasn't there before. "Now we can get down to business." He grins.

Yes. The true business: looting everything not nailed down.

The mine is basically the storage of the place. Most of the sacks and barrels are filled with staple goods like grains, fruits, veggies, so on. Some of them have more interesting stuff like spices and such, and those bags are much smaller by comparison. There are some cabinets and weapon racks, but the racks are empty and the cabinets have nothing of major interest. The weapons, I think, were all being used by the ex-occupants of these mines, who have all died tragically due to…homicide.

The cabinets hold scrap papers and leathers, with one or two journals of the bandit team's exploits. It's cool, but not valuable.

 _We quickly flip through the journal to see if there's anything of merit. There isn't._

Though most of the loot is not valuable, we are taking EVERYTHING not nailed down, so everything must go. There is a wagon outside, so we'll be…probably…using that…we don't have a beast of burden.

…I guess that question is for later. For now we have to worry about the biggest loot of all: the end dungeon chest.

 _Aria checks to see if it's trapped and then pops it open._

"Not bad." She says, tossing its contents out onto the cavern floor. "For bandits, anyway."

There's a sack of gold (roughly 1000 coins, guessing by weight), an ornamental-looking sword, some bars of a silvery metal, and two spell books (Candlelight and Healing Hands). There's also a ring. Aria weighs the ring with a small frown on her face.

"It's enchanted, but I don't know with what." She says and stows it away in a small bag. "Until I can have it appraised and identified, it stays in here." She pats the bag. I guess having to identifying an item is now going to be a thing. I hope it's not a ring of burden.

"You want these?" Jake asks me, waving the spellbooks around. "Might be helpful."

Aria takes the books and thumbs through them, nodding slightly. "Yeah, might be helpful." She hands them off to me.

"I don't know how to use magic yet." I reply. "So I'd like them, but I need someone to each me first."

"I can do that." Aria offers. "I can teach you on the way back."

"Thanks." I say sincerely because _fuck yeah_ magic.

…

Apart from the wagon, the outside part of the bandit camp is terribly threadbare. The furs and cloths used to build the tents are basically the most valuable things here. After we're done loading everything onto the cart, Aria, Freida, Mell and Erik come together and torch the place with Flames.

In the end we stole 20 weapons of varying types, 10 shields, the equivalent of 5 sets of armor—

 _Equivalent?_

Judging by the bits and pieces we were willing to salvage. Aria's not really above looting from the dead, and Freida got talked into it reasonably easily. They stripped the parts that were either not too bloodied or too difficult to clean, and the patchwork of material make up about five sets of armor.

Uh…we got weapons, shields, armor…the gold, the spellbooks…and a few bags of grains and veggies.

So…elephant in the room: our lack of a…elephant, I guess. We don't have a beast of burden for our wagon….cart. It's more of cart than a wagon. The cart is a two wheeled, "Someone has to carry this thing" type of cart. It's large enough to hold all the stuff we've piled onto it provided that we have an animal for it.

Fortunately Aria has a plan to procure a draft animal.

She concentrates and creates an orb of dark, pulling energy…it's conjuration, isn't it? She casts…oh wow.

 _A large spectral wolf, the size of a horse, comes into being in front of the cart._

Aria, like she's done this a million times, hooks the cart onto the wolf. The wolf doesn't seem to care.

"See? Mary Sue." Jake mutters with a small grin. "She ain't special for nothing."

No kidding.

…

On our way back, Aria teaches me magic. Or more precisely, she teaches me the theory of magic.

So, in a nutshell, magic is a thing that you feel. That's…y'know, pretty reasonable. It's not necessarily mental power in the sense that "your mind makes it real", but more…um…

To _seriously_ oversimplify, Aria calls it an 'affinity with nature', a nebulous term that the other three magic users in our group ambivalently agree with because nobody here has a formal education in the arts of magic. To make her point a little more clear, Aria holds my hand and run magic through her veins. It bleeds (kinda) into my hands and I think I get a coarse idea despite the shitty description she gave.

I then had her cast Flames while holding hands just to make sure. I mildly regret the decision, but at least I learned something from it. Something besides "fire is hot", anyway.

So…conjecture: everyone innately has magic power, and the difficulty is the method and ease of harnessing the power. Evidence: there was a serious pulse that was running through Aria's hands, and it flared hot right before she, y'know, roasted the fuck out of my hand.

After Aria's assistance, I am able to cast spells by virtue of shameless copying. After an hour of shameless copying, I am then able to cast Flames without shameless copying.

 _So…shameful copying?_

…Yes.

Also Jake learns to use Flames as well through roughly the same method.

The two of us make a similar observation at roughly the same time: the act of using magic is a very tingly feeling that runs through our veins. In many ways, it is very similar to the act of, say, raising our arm over our head. By which I mean: it's impossibly easy to move your arm over your head, and it's impossibly hard to define _exactly how it happens._

Think like…imagine writing a how-to for moving an arm to an alien with zero knowledge of the human body or the chemical processes that goes into muscular contraction, nervous signals, and other human body shenanigans.

 _So…Qwop._

…Yes, but harder. Like Qwop, but instead of the game stopping only when your head touches the ground, it stops every time you run incorrectly, and nobody tells you how to run in the right way.

Anyways, after some practice I can now cast Flames, Candlelight, and Healing Hands. I'll probably be able to do Shock after I go back and read that particular book again. The books basically describes (in very lurid detail) how the magic 'feels' in your body as you mold it, and by molding the magic in a very specific way, you get to either pop a ball of light or make someone feel really good by touching them. Small wonder I've never seen a magical book show up in a general store yet.

 _Go back to the 'feel good' part._

Apparently my Healing Hands has a sub-effect called Viagra, if Jake is to be believed. I think he's bullshitting me.

Anyhoo…now that I can cast, I'll need to think about what spells I want to use. Since I don't have anything like a pop…do I have a pop-up menu? Magic. P. Tab-Left. Up Up down down left right left…

…No? No. I do not have a magic menu. Since I don't have a menu that conveniently lists all the spells I know, it stands to reason that I'll need to keep books on hand to constantly remind myself how to cast, and if my repertoire gets too large then…uh, then I'll die because of the Dewey Decimal System.

I never learned that, by the way. Also I've played with SkyUI for so long I've forgotten how the normal magic UI looks in Skyrim.

Anyways.

The overarching question is…what kind of caster do I want to be? Enchanter doesn't count because it's a given. It can't possibly be more of a given.

Mm…I think…even if I end up in solo situations, my crafting background means I'll likely be more reliant on gear instead of innate abilities. By that logic, I'll probably be a mid or long range caster. A ritual caster, maybe?

Well, let's look through our options, assuming that we're working with the magic that exists in vanilla Skyrim and my current casting traits.

 _We had a break to spar with Jake (he's the only one who knows what we're trying to do) in order to understand our casting traits._

Aria is a terrible measuring stick because she's too awesome, so we're using Mell and Frieda as the baseline. Erik has no casting experience beyond using his flames to light torches, so he's out as a reference point. Anyways.

Jake's a very 'traditional' caster, like Frieda. When he engages in close range combat he basically gets one spell to use without the ability to switch at random. If he wants to use a different spell, he has to back off, defend, and then get a new spell before jumping back in. Imagine if the game did not pause when you accessed your magic menu (and you don't get hotkeys). The game doesn't pause, and whenever you're in the menu all hits against you are criticals. Falling back, in that sense, sounds like a pretty smart idea.

I'm a 'ritual' caster like Mell. I can switch spells faster than Jake, but my casting abilities greatly suffer whenever I'm engaged in physical combat. I imagine this to be something that will be fixed given more combat experience, but it's safer to assume that I'll just be keeping my distance at all times unless I have no other choice. In game terms, imagine if you can't use spells the instant you take damage of any kind, and your physical skills suck.

So, with that in mind…what are my options on a per-tree basis?

Destruction: I likely will not be spamming the simple ones. The elemental cloaks and the traps are probably going to be my go-to here.

Illusion (and Mysticism): Courage, Anti-courage? I think this tree is just going to be me throwing around morale boosting area of effect spells…and lights. Mostly lights. Maybe also detect life, if we can get that spell from Oblivion…Cyrodill, somehow. I miss Detect Life. It was the only way I could play Oblivion back on my potato of a computer back when it first came out.

Alteration: Pre-battle buffs, I imagine. Stoneskin for days, man. I don't think I've ever used an alteration spell besides the -skin type spells in game. I don't think there _are_ other alteration spells in game, though I'm likely wrong.

Restoration: My in-battle bread and butter, I imagine. Clerical duties all day, every day. I don't think I'll be able to use healing hands in the heat of battle, though, so I need to see if there is a ranged heal or something.

Conjuration: My…other in-battle bread and butter? I can imagine sitting back and summoning like there's no tomorrow and have them do the fighting for me. In-game I just use conjuration for the soul-trapping and conjure bow…which _might_ happen here, but I don't really think so. I'll need to look into the availability of spellbooks before I can make a better judgment.

…Well, possibilities aside, I need to study the spells some more.

 _So we do, for the entirety of the trip back we study the Candlelight spell._

Hmm…so basically, there are two ways to use a spell. Effect over time, and Fire and Forget. There are some variations between the schools, but every spell can be divided down these two lines.

Effect over time is Dots, Damage over time. I say 'effect' because obviously candlelight deals no damage. Either way, this is the default stance for spells like Healing Hand, Wards, Flames, etc. It's about maintaining constant and consistent magical flow for optimal spell power over a set or unset amount of time.

Fire and Forget is the other half. Firebolt, Stoneskin, Candlelight, etc. This category means that you cast a 'complete' shot of the spell and discharge it. Whatever happens afterwards stays on a fixed timer and poofs after that timer is gone.

In vanilla Skyrim, all spells fall into one or the other categories. In this 'real world' Skyrim, all spells can be used in both ways. For example, Candlelight can be used to either "create a floating ball of light that follows the caster and lasts for x seconds" or "create a floating ball of light that follows the caster and costs x mana per second", depending on how you formulate the cast.

Also, you have some element of control over the spell's particulars. Just like how you can unleash a downward slash that has variable power, hit area, or attack speed, how a caster formulate a spell changes the kind of result you get. Candlelight can glow brighter, follow faster/slower, last longer…so on, so forth. All the more reason for us to keep the books around, I suppose, since I basically need to review the spell's default casting before I can change it in any way.

…obstacles aside, I'm looking forward to this. I really need to do some shopping when I get back to Whiterun and raid some bookstores.

Also, Aria is a seriously terrible teacher. She's way too talented which translates to some seriously bad instructions.

For reference, I learned Candlelight after an hour and a half of practice and constant close reading.

Aria learned to use the spell when she thumbed through the book after looting it from the chest.

Mell took an hour, Frieda knew it already, and Jake took another hour and a half. Erik had no interest in learning it.

 _What's Jake's stance on magic?_

He's melee oriented so he gets super reduced experience from using magic, but it doesn't stop him from actually using it. He plans to use basically some –skin spell before charging in, or else heals in case a cleric isn't readily on hand.

…

After four hours of riding on a wolf-pulled cart, we arrive back in Rorikstead.

 _People stop and stare at the giant spectral wolf pulling the wagon._

Aria gives no fucks. Also, why is there suddenly more traffic on the road? There are carts and people bustling everywhere and the atmosphere is…less than pleasant.

Hmm. "Sir." I stop a guard. "What's going on?"

"A dragon attacked Whiterun earlier." The guard says darkly. "It may be coming here."

…oh shit.

 _We all look at each other._

It's that named dragon that kicks off the plot proper, isn't it? I don't remember his name because I literally never pay attention to it. It was only on like the twentieth playthrough or so that I even noticed that he had a name or was speaking people language.

"Dragons?" Mell scoffs. "Yeah right." She rolls her eyes, too.

"Let's pretend the dragon threat is real." I interject because it looks like Erik wants to interject. "What's our plan of action?"

As of right now, most of Rorikstead's confusion is based around whether if a Dragon exists at all. Most people don't believe it, but the guards are taking the possibility seriously. Because the guards are taking it seriously, some people go "well it's worth being a bit careful" and are evacuating. So between the evacuations and the guards preparing it's pretty oh shit

 _As we're making our observations we hear a roar in the distance_

Everyone freezes because that roaring is so… _incredibly_ foreign to the environment. Despite the ambient noise and despite how soft it is, we can clearly hear it over…everything. It's probably not an overstatement to say that the roar is not entirely…physical.

"Bear Bear Bear!" Jake mutters with no small amounts of urgency. "We gotta move!"

 _Bear?_

It's an old warning we made from a different co-op game back during the days of splitscreen gaming POINT IS shit's about the hit the fan and we need to hide like _right now_

 _The Guards all find clear spots to shoot from and aim their bows at the sky. Aria readies her bow as well, though she doesn't find said clear spot._

We abandon our cart (Aria unsummons her giant wolf), dismount, and crouch next to it. I…don't know if I like this very much. I feel very small. This sucks.

 _We hear another roar. It seems to seep deep into our mind and we shudder involuntarily._

I…I can say for a certainty that I'm terrified.

I wanna bolt.

I wanna bolt real bad.

I want to get out of here.

 _Our response is not unique: of the people that are visible on the road, many are shaking in fear. Some are outright running away in whatever direction they can find, completely disregarding friends and family in their attempt to…escape from something._

 _In our case, Jake puts his hand on our shoulder and keeps us in place before we can do something insane._

[3rd Person Camera because I don't want to use italics anymore]

Mirmulnir sees the confusion his Dismay Shout has created on the town beneath him. While he's far too high to hear the increase in confusion, he could sense it below him. Still, as much as he wanted to crush this small puny human settlement, the previous events in Rorikstead weighed on his mind, and the presence of an eerily similar magic source within the town dissuaded him from committing to an attack.

That said, he wasn't about to just disappoint the humans and leave.

Mirmulnir lazily rolls in the air, and then dives upon the town below him with the grace and gravitas of an apex predator bearing down on its prey.

" **Yol Toor Shul!** "

His conic breath of fire sears a line into the village as he pulls up at the last moment. Thatched roofs and the occasional villager catch on fire, and smoke begins to rise even as he takes into the air with a rapid beat of his wings.

He then feels a sudden hit to his tail. It wasn't a strong one, and certainly not one that he would have taken into account under normal circumstances. Still, it didn't feel as if the hit did any damage, and Mirmulnir puts the issue out of his mind as he climbs away from the slowly igniting Rorikstead.

[1st Person Camera]

It…it left?

He left?

Why did he leave?

Why did he oh wait there is a fire

Let's what the hell I don't even

Holy shit

Holy shit

Ok, uh…um…

Between the people running around and the people trying to firefight the fire and the people still panicking there is just utter chaos.

…We should go and do something about this.

…

 _One firefighting montage later…_

Fires are a big deal™ in a fantasy medieval era, and the amount of fire that dragon brought into the town was…significant, to say the least. Despite the best efforts of uncoordinated civilians and a handful of frost mages, by the time the fire has been beaten Rorikstead has lost a quarter of its structures.

We lucked out, in a way: the dragon's breath hit close to the northern side of town along with a northern wind, which held for long enough for the fire to be somewhat contained. 'Course, it meant the buildings north of the strike zone were write-offs, but the rest were ok.

…

Whew.

 _It is now the night after the dragon attack._

It…it shows, too. Everyone's impossibly jumpy and deathly quiet. Every little noise would make us twitch.

I…don't think I've ever actually considered a scenario where the dragon would just dive bomb the location and then leave.

How do we kill it then? Can we kill it? I don't think we can without the grounding shout, unless we build actual AAA. Anti-Aircraft Artillery.

Ugh.

Well, I'm gonna go rub my wood before bed.

 _So what are we making?_

Nothing, really. Still just getting used to carpentry…I need proper stockpiles of material before I actually try to make things anyways.

…Speaking of wood, Aria shot an arrow at the dragon before it flew away.

 _You're only thinking of that now?_

I've been on firefighting duty.

Anyways, when the dragon swooped down and I was busy being terrified out of my mind, Aria jumped onto the wagon, drew her bow, and took a shot at the dragon.

I think she hit, because some time later (after we were done firefighting) she went out looking for—and subsequently returned with—a small dragon scale. I think/believe that it is a dragon scale because if it is the scale of anything else we're going to have some serious questions. The thing is like the size of a dinner plate, for fuck's sake.

 _We go to bed later and dream of fire, burning, and giant flying fish._

…

[Next Day]

…

Why did it have so many burning teeth? Anyways.

Strategy session! We're at an inn. Time to plan out what we're doing next.

"For better or worse, we've done our job." Aria says. "We should head back to Whiterun."

All in favor: everyone. All opposed: none.

 _Freida did not vote. Reason: she went back with her own group._

Strategy session done!

 _Um._

Honestly we all just want to get out of here.

"What about me?" Erik asks. We didn't include him as a member of the group despite him sitting right next from us. His father's inn was on the south side of town and was thus spared from the fire, so it's not like he has a vested interest in staying. That said…Rorikstead could use every hand it had right now.

"What do you want to do?" Jake asks him. "Do you want to stay and help your dad? It looks like this place could use the help." We're sitting in his father's inn, which is a little bit overtaxed in terms of manpower.

"Rorikstead is a small place without a lot of wealth. Even if I stayed I wouldn't be of help to my father." He says…though I get the feeling he's not…er, he's being truthful, but…not. Or something.

"We're not full time mercenaries or adventurers, you know?" Jake reminds him. "Just because you're tagging along doesn't mean you'll get coin."

Oh, also: he gave back my Greataxe of cold, as unused as it may be.

"I-I know." Erik says. "But…" He throws a glance towards the north side of town. We can't see it because walls are solid, but we all get what he's implying.

 _As in: nevermind the adventure, he just wants to skip town._

His dad gets some time to pass by the table. "Take Erik with you." He says. "If Rorikstead isn't safe, then I want him away from here."

"Wh-" Erik twists in his seat. "Father, you're really staying here then?" He stands to go and talk to his old man, rather than yell at him from across the room.

"Should we take him with us?" Jake asks, scowling. "Aria?"

"I see no reason to." Aria sighs. "But he's going to follow us and likely die in the attempt if we don't."

I feel like we're seriously overestimating Erik's sense of…lack of self-preservation at this point.

Still. "Better question: what do we do after Whiterun?" I ask. "I mean, the city was hit pretty bad…worse than Rorikstead, if I heard right. What will the two of you do when you get back?" I gesture to Jake and Aria, because me and Mell at least have property.

"Honestly? I'm not sure." Jake muses. "Things haven't gone according to plan, so I'm a little at a loss." He says with a meaningful glance at me. Basically, Aria hasn't been recognized as the Dragonborn because she didn't get to kill the dragon.

"I can get some extra beds if you guys need a place to sleep." I say. "If I'm gonna be making shit then I'll need rawmats, and to get rawmats I need people."

"What are rawmats?" Aria asks curiously.

Jake nods. "Yeah, I can do that, assuming if Whiterun's economy hasn't switched because of the dragon." By which he means 'everyone's stockpiling shit for crises.'

"What are rawmats?" Aria insists.

"Raw Materials, so iron, leather, so on." I explain. "It'd also be nice if I could get my hands on an enchanting table and learn some enchanting later."

"You'd make the most fucking amazing enchanted gear." Jake grins. "You and your Gundam fetish."

Oh yeah. "You know it."

"What's a Gundam?" Aria demands.

"What's a fetish?" Mell asks innocently.

…

In the end, Erik was reluctantly convinced by his father to go to Whiterun and get away from Rorikstead, much to Erik's worry. The dude is, despite all of his teenage rebelliousness, fiercely protective of his father. I can respect that.

I'm glad we don't have to worry about keeping the kid on a short leash.

Either way, Aria summons her Great Wolf for cart-pulling duties and we make the day-long trip to Whiterun.

Anyhoo…in the past few days, I've gained three skill points in total. Jake got five. We also get some time to actually talk about our perk charts in depth.

"I mean, if we're gonna party up then we need to specialize." Jake says. "I'm… _ostensibly_ …tanking."

Jake takes three ranks of Combat Recovery (Increased health recovery while injured) and two ranks of Analysis (can identify items better). He tried to ID the ring but couldn't make heads or tails of it.

As for me…"I'm gonna be crafting a lot, probably, so I'll take support perks."

I take Magic Recovery (Mana recovery speed increase), Enchanting Mastery (Can enchant better), and Dechant Mastery (can break down items better). I saw dechant mastery and had a bad feeling, so I took it.

"What do you guys mean by 'perks'?" Mell asks curiously.

Also note: we're not making this discussion in private. We take some time to explain our perk chart to Mell…to the entire cart, really.

 _One short exposition later…_

"Neat." Mell and Erik aren't quite sure what we're talking about.

"I have something similar." Aria observes. "Though it seems to be less intricate than yours…and more well-defined."

So she CAN choose her level ups….actually I have no idea if that's the case. She says she can see it, but that's different from actually being able to control things.

"Mell, it's like this." I get her attention and try to walk her through the feeling of accessing the perk chart.

 _Why?_

More firepower? If she's staying around, great. If not, good to have friends in other places.

"I think I can see it now." Mell says slowly after about an hour of her focusing. "I have…Herbalism and Alcohol mastery." She says, then her eyes go a little wide.

"As expected of an apothecary." I say quickly because I get the feeling she really didn't want to let that second perk slip. "Then again I've never seen an apothecary's skill chart so I would have no idea."

Mell smiles at us. She's quite cute. Non-sequitur: why does she only have two perks? If she has the same perk chart as we do then it also stands to reason that she gains experience when she, y'know, does shit. So…by now, she should have tons upon tons of points.

…Maybe they can't pick their perks? Hmm. Without diving deeper into this I can't draw a conclusion one way or another, so we'll shelve the issue for later thought.

 _To wit: after we tell her how to pick a perk (to the best of our ability) she tries for a good hour and made zero progress._

For the rest of the trip I talk with the three of them about the perk tree, but mostly about Jake since the other two can't quite wrap their heads around specialization the way we're used to. We're planning out our trees under the assumption that our current party structure will not be consistent.

There are a lot of possible options, so we're not drafting any concrete plans yet.

"Especially since there are a lot of invisible perks on the tree." Jake notes.

There are just way too many perks for us to conceivably plan around each one. If I could just throw it to the internet and have them document it in like 30 seconds…

 _So what else are we doing for the trip?_

I'm basically spamming healing hands to see what I can learn out of it. In order to cast it consecutively I took a seat on the cart and borrowed Mell for it.

Going by the sounds she made the experience was pleasant. Or else it was extremely unpleasant, I dunno.

 _Why Mell specifically?_

…she's cute and easy to convince. I swear to god I am not depraved.

 _And the amount of people that believe you is…_

…if it's not zero then I'm not doing my job right.

Anyways!

Strange arousing moans aside, I gained a point from constantly casting the spell. With apologies to Mell, I started to vary how to channel magical power after about three hours of experience. It…uh. When I tried to make it more efficient, she started moaning (more).

…Actually when I tried to do anything she started moaning, so I think she was just fucking with me in general.

Anyways, eventually Mell volunteered to cut her hand with a dagger so I can experiment, so she's still cool all things considered. Though it was a little weird how she's pretty ok with putting a knife into her hand. Repeatedly.

"This is how I test healing potion recipes." Mell says when I ask.

Anyways, now that I actually have a wound to work with, I get substantial progress on how healing hands work and get another point in the process.

So…Healing hands, and I think by extension all healing spells, have an effectiveness that directly correlates with how well you can see the wound and how well you know the human body…and how much magic power you put into the spell. Power is self-explanatory.

To give an example with the other two, let's say that Mell cuts the palm of her hand. If I'm looking at the wound with perfect knowledge of the anatomical proportions of Mell's hand, then the spell will work at 100% efficiency. If I'm casting onto the back of Mell's hand, then we're at 70%. If I'm awkwardly rubbing her neck, it's like 25%. If I'm massaging her shins, it's like…10%.

I'm surprised she even let us try that last one, to be honest.

I'm also more surprised that massaging her shins while looking at the open wound in her hand bumps it up to like…more. I'm gonna pretend I know what I'm talking about and call it 40%.

POINT BEING, healing magic is more effective when you know what you're trying to heal. It's entirely possible to just do what Aria does and pour power into the wound until it closes with no regard for efficiency, but for us normies it's probably a good idea to refresh our understanding of human anatomy at some point.

…

Candlelight was a lot less fun. I think it may be indicative of how Illusion spells work in general, but in order to make a Candlelight ball you have to have to achieve a very specific balance between power and efficiency. Trying to change the mix for, say, longer duration or a brighter light, causes an exponential increase in spell cost if it isn't done correctly. What qualifies as 'correctly' is a little bit up for debate.

I got another point from that little discovery. I put both of the points I've gained into Reinforcement, because I think we can all agree that I've been abusing the _fuck_ out of that, and that therefore the most logical choice is to make it even more overpowered.

…Even though two points is a pretty slight difference, I feel.

…

We arrive at Whiterun a little after nightfall. It's pretty normal apart from a sense of…muted…ness? Everything feels more subdued than it should be, even though it's after hours. Whiterun doesn't have much of a night life—everything's restricted to inns and such—but even so, things feel more solemn than normal. The guards wave us in (Aria had to unsummon her Giant Wolf) and we…

…go to my shack of a house, I guess.

Mell's place was burned. Apparently it was still standing, but since it still smelled like smoke she wasn't about to chance a night in it.

We don't sleep in my house, mind, because the infrastructure is just not there. We instead rent two rooms and kinda make do, since all the inns were pretty crowded.

I wonder why.

…No, seriously. I had expected some people to leave, if temporarily, so to have the inn be so overbooked was a surprise.

Also, real glad I have my own bed right about now.

…

[Next Day]

…

So, first orders of business: Mell and Jake will go and examine her house in detail, Aria's going to report her bounty to the castle (where she got it), Erik will look around for something to do—an excuse so he can walk around the city for damages, and I'll be scrapping the gear we've looted from the bandits.

No point selling them since the only people who would buy corpse gear would be…smithies, like mine, who are looking for more materials to smelt down.

Anyways…

Mell's house is partially burned. According to Jake, some of the key structural beams have been seriously compromised so the house is no longer safe to live in, and a good chunk of the roof had collapsed. Mell's going to hire an architect to take a more professional look at it later and see about the repairs, but for now what little she salvaged from her shop is transferred to my hut, where she'll operate her business on the short term.

For the two that had a chance to really walk around and scope out the effects of the dragon attack…Aria and Erik delivered some pretty similar stories. There's a pretty noticeable gash in the middle of Whiterun, where many buildings have been damaged by the fire (if not burned to cinders). Since the dragon stayed longer, there was comparatively more damage to the city over a greater variety of areas. However, due to Whiterun having a healthier pool of ice mages and a more robust water access, the actual damage was pretty well contained.

Still, I'm going to guess that the loss of wealth is pretty substantial. Also: apparently the Tree in the middle of the city (The Gildegreen?) was injured by the attack and thus needs to be revived.

A party left earlier yesterday for the…um…thing. You have to visit a cave with a giant tree and then stab the tree for its blood and then run from like a million Spriggans who really, _desperately_ want your asshole. I don't think the travelers were looking for Nettlebane so…y'know, good luck to them, or something.

Aria earned 5000(!) gold from her mission. She gets 2500 (no complaints there), the three of us (Jake, Mell, me) gets 750 each, and Erik gets 250.

So that's that for their side of the job.

As for me…

I stripped down everything (metal) we found back to their component materials for a total of 30 iron and 10 steel ingots. Any wood bits get scrapped and tossed into the fire. The armor bits…the metal bits we smelt down for ingots (resulting in mostly slag) and the leather/furs get cleaned as best as they can and then stashed away.

Before I had intended to just toss them into the forge and get rid of 'em, but…I can Replace and strengthen material with the power of High-Octane Bullshit, so having spare materials on hand, even if it isn't immediately workable, is a useful consideration.

That said…I'm not entirely sure what to do with the workable materials.

Hmm.

…

I make nails and bracings and other construction material out of the iron and some daggers and axes out of the steel. Pretty simple stuff, no Replacement usage, just…y'know, normal gear.

I also send Jake to buy cloth, straw, furs, and cotton. 500 gold's worth. With the materials I make some mattresses. Very thin mattresses, but mattresses nonetheless.

They're pretty warm, so…mission complete, all things considered.

…Whew. Well. I guess we're cooling off for a few days. Until we're sure what's going on, it's better to stay put.

…

[That Night]

…

I sold the construction materials for 300 gold. Technically I lost money, but the iron was basically free, so eh.

As I said, Mell moved her potions table and some supplies to my house and is operating her business from my hut. She's made (according to her) 150 gold of profit. So that's 150 after deducting her material cost.

Erik and Jake went to help with the city's rebuilding effort.

Aria more or less has nothing to do (strangely) and thus has been sleeping inside the hut.

…I'm not surprised, I guess. She's done like 99% of the work so far. She deserves some rest.

…

[One Week Passes]

…

The stuff that happened is…more or less the same? Or, rather, I make gear out of iron ore that Jake and Erik brings back and then sell the spares for money.

Jake and Erik aren't out mining themselves, mind you; following the dragon attack, the miners are skittish, and are looking for some extra hands to guard them just in case the dragon came back. Erik managed to negotiate a trade with the miners: they'll hand over some of the ore to me in exchange for free tools and repairs.

 _We learn later that this is a pretty common thing for smithies to do: get a supplier to secure rawmats in exchange for favors._

It's nice to have a stock of materials I can use at will, though I've made like a million picks and shovels at this point. I'm _so fucking good_ at making picks and shovels now. Like I can probably make a shovel so strong it will dig through the center of the earth in one hit.

 _Hyperbole much?_

Just a little. Eventually I'll make a drill that'll pierce the heavens.

For now though, we'll continue as we are and just…y'know, live.

…

I went spellbook searching! Sadly everything was out of my price range. Flames, Sparks, and Frost were cheap, at 200 gold apiece (I properly learned Sparks by the way). The immediate tier up like Firebolt was a steep 2,000 gold.

Suffice to say we're not splurging on spellbooks any time soon. Wizards and magic users may be frowned upon in Skyrim, but they're still hellishly powerful and useful.

I didn't get Frost because I don't need things to be more cold.

Um…

I also went and got the ring properly appraised. 50 gold service fee.

It's a "Minor Ring of Firefly", as the appraiser calls it. The name is given more or less on the spot, since there's no way any enchanter would know the names of every object off the top of their head.

So.

This ring, "When activated", allows the wielder to shoot a "small bolt of fire". I've tried it, and it seems to operate along the same lines as Flames, but with less efficiency. This isn't even useful for someone who's not good with magic, because you need to be reasonably well versed with Flames to even activate it in the first place, and thus the caster's Flames would be way the fuck more efficient than this piddly ring.

I think it's entirely possible that the ring has secondary effects that I'm not thinking about right now, but as far as I can tell it's pretty tame. I'm still keeping it around as a reference for enchanting and enchanted objects though.

…Also, how quaint that you can actually have objects enchanted with an effect that actively deals damage. Hmm…

…

[Two Weeks Pass]

…

Aria gave me a gift!

"Hope you like it." She says as she brings the gift into my hut.

It's an old enchanting table! Aria's working with…uh…what's his face. The mage up at Dragonsreach. For the past week she's been working with him on the stone tablet from Bleak Falls Barrow and the dragonscale from Sir I-Buzz-Villages. The mage has been given special attention and extra funding to see if there's something about dragons on the tablet, and he spent some gold on a new table, so Aria got his hand-me-down and sent it to me.

Yay~ It's got a five-point star that make up the most of the tabletop, a weird orb thingy, two rows of candles (burned down in a rather irregular way), and some kinda book holder.

Yay~!

 _We give Aria a hug for bringing it in, despite us having zero knowledge in how enchanting works._

"I'm glad you like it." Aria laughs. "I'll put it inside the house."

We've been upgrading the house over the two weeks, so now it looks…rather good, really. It's actually roomy enough for five people to live in (kinda), and looks like it can reasonably weather the elements. We still have to eat outside, though…

 _A miner coughs._ "Hey boss, you're happy and all, but my pick still needs work."

Oh right! I'm at work repairing things, and the front of the ten-person queue I have is a Nord miner who's…got enough beard and lines that I'd place him at 30something.

Anyhoo, I take the broken pick from the miner in question and look it over. It doesn't have my marking on it. Good. "What happened to it?" I say and toss the two pieces of the pick into my forge…into the ingot-maker in my forge.

"It's an old thing." The miner grins. "I heard there was a smith in the Clover that's actually worth the salt, so I came to see for myself."

I don't believe him, but he's being nice. "Uh-huh." I bring the forge up to speed and smelt down the pick to liquid iron. I do this with equipment I don't own because the quality of their material makes me angry. I of course make two Replacement passes on the ingot to Replace away impurities. Replacement passes are a thing I discovered over the two weeks. Basically, I compromise the perk's accuracy for utility. If I do it too much I'll end up stripping away iron (because I'll be too unfocused to do it correctly) but one or two passes goes a long way to make up for the strength of substandard ingots.

 _The miner waits for ten minutes as we hammer the ingot into its pickaxe shape._

And then as they watch, I silently Replace the inners of pick with lines of steel for strength, and then Replace some iron with air to reduce the weight. The finishing touch is, of course, an insignia on the bottom of the pick head.

"He wasn't kidding." The miner mutters as he retrieves his pick (an hour later because it needs to cool). "How much?"

 _Our clients will either make an order and leave or else loiter around. To aid in their loitering around, an enterprising cook opened a shop for meat skewers and ale right next door._

Mell in particular is very good at keeping clients around in order to milk them for more money. "Ten g-septim service fee, one more for the haft." I say. "Give it to Mell there."

"And an extra one to stare." Mell says sweetly upon catching the man's eyes flit down.

The miner curses good-naturedly and then gives twelve gold to Mell. "Pleasure doing business with you." He says with a laugh and leaves.

 _What's our insignia?_

The Mobius strip connected to a broken chain. Took me a while to get the design to look natural, too.

Anyways, at this point I have a recurring customer base of about twenty people (mostly lumberjacks) who want me to put an edge to their lumbering axe on a daily basis…So I get about a hundred gold per day. Mell then sells them small vials of stamina potions for a total of 150.

Jake and Erik bring home 50 a day (100 if there's a fight).

For reference, Aria makes 600 a day, not counting the gifts she gets from being an attractive single woman in the apparently uppermost echelon of Whiterun society. The sign of Mara seems to be more prevalent nowadays in Dragonsreach, too.

Strictly speaking, not my problem.

 _We finish the day's work and then turn to the enchanter's table._

Let's play, shall we…oh, but wait, I need to make dinner. Hang on.

 _We cook a simple potato and chicken soup for the four of us._

Erik's the best cook from helping out at his father's inn, but he and Jake come home after dark, and Mell gets hungry before dark. Mell isn't quite a lethal chef, but she also doesn't quite understand what it means to "clean your hands after making potions holy fucking shit please don't cook like this" so her food always tastes weird. It's a damn good thing she doesn't make poisons, I'll say that much.

So my soups are thus amazing by the sheer necessity of three people being hungry and having nothing good to eat. Aria eats at the castle (she can't leave because it would be rude).

…For the record, I've also tried to Replace Potato with Chicken just for the hell of it. It was…a good idea on paper, because there is something incredibly disgusting about biting into a potato and then suddenly hitting a squishier portion. They're not quite fried chicken, because there's no frying going on.

…I should make some fried chicken.

But anyway, with dinner out of the way, I can finally dig into enchanting!

 _Also for the record: While Idolaf Battle-Born would have loved to commission a new sword immediately, he 1) did not know that we were back in Whiterun, and 2) was busy coordinating rebuilding efforts in parts of the city that were under the Battle-Born sphere of influence. Also, 3) He did not remember our face or name; dragon attacks tend to do that to people._

So first things first, I need to dechant the Battleaxe of cold.

…Uh…

 _We get our battleaxe and compare it to the enchanting table. It extends rather awkwardly because it's comparatively massive._

…How the fuck does this work?

Goddammit.

…

 _The Next Day, we visit a bookstore to buy a book on enchanting._

500 gold, but 500 gold well spent.

Ok!

 _We get to reading after finishing our work for the day._

…

So…hmm. First off, enchants are applied to a foci (like a gem) which is then applied to items, and then that enchant will permeate through the item according to the enchant pattern that the enchanter has granted. More complicated enchants are harder to remove, but are not necessarily better…to extract an enchant, you have to first isolate the coursing magic back into the foci before removing it, otherwise you'd destroy the item in the process.

…No points for guessing how much brute forcing the Dragonborn does in order to get her enchants, then…

Lessee…to enchant, we need a strong source of magic that is also stable. The options are either to use magic as a person or to use a soul gem. Soul gems create more stable enchants but are limited in power, while using a person's magical power creates a chance of failure.

…Yuck. Imagine wanting to enchant that Ebony sword of yours and have it go kablooey without replacements or console commands. Or save scumming, for that matter.

 _That's when you commit ritual suicide and start a new game._

Anyways…

 _Between our day work and our nightly journey into the book on enchanting, it takes us a week before we're sure we understand enchanting well enough to give it a go._

Right.

So.

 _We're at our enchanting table after our week of learning._

I need a place to store enchants that gets pull out, so I've prepped a blank scroll and a blank book just in case.

Lessee here…so long as I can isolate the cold from the battleaxe, I should be able to extract it without trouble. Theoretically. Hopefully. Please don't explode inside my house-ly. In retrospect I really should have moved this thing outside just in case.

 _But then it would set the neighborhood on fire._

I suppose. Alright.

 _We trace the Healing Hands spell up until the point where we actually cast healing hands, and use that magic power to extract the Cold enchant onto the mundane book._

I just had a sudden flash of insight, like "oh yeah that scroll is not going to be enough." Which is why it went onto the book. It went very well, all things considered. My intuition (which is likely due to the dechant perk bonus) is that the spell was "mostly preserved" during transfer.

Though I don't know exactly what that means, I think we can guess that there will be some falloff in terms of efficiency, damage, or whatever, as I use this book to enchant new objects. There's likely a durability limit too…hmm…

…I can probably enchant and dechant to preserve copies of…Cold Damage? Frost Damage? As I need to, which…will probably make it impossible for me to run out of enchants…but then how do I get a 'fresh' enchant?

…Or I can just stop thinking so far ahead and focus on the task at hand. Ok.

While dechanting the battleaxe, the Cold enchant passed through my head. I think I have an inkling on how to use it, but actually enchanting without the book is…uh, not going to happen.

…Also, this explains why some of the books in the bookstore were 40,000 gold. I guess those were books containing actual enchants (I never looked into them; no touch rule applied). Also also, I'm going to assume that since those books were so pricy, the ability to recall enchants perfectly from memory is basically either a game expediency (like not needing to eat) or else an ability exclusive to the Dragonborn. Aria has no immediate interest in enchanting so I can't compare notes with her.

…and now I'm wondering about any children Aria may have in the future. Would they be all as amazing as she is?

 _Warning, warning._

Yeah, yeah…no eugenics. Anyways.

I now have a Cold Enchant, as well as a dagger I've made. I couldn't get my hands on a soul stone—apparently those are _super_ rare (for us poor folk). So here goes nothing.

 _We place the book on the top of the enchanter's table, in the spot where the book holder is (where the skull should be according to the in-game model) and begin to channel magic through it._

The magic I'm sending out flows through the book and becomes…charged, I suppose, with the Cold Enchant. It is then collected by the green orb sitting over the book, and after a fashion begins to flow from the orb into the dagger I've placed in the middle of the star.

…The magic from the orb seems to scatter wildly into the air and brings a chill, so I better get my fuckin' game face on and FOCUS!

 _Through us bringing out a lot of magic power, more of the strands of magical power begin to collect into the dagger…but most of it radiates uselessly out into the air. Five minutes later, the room is frosted over and our magic power is spent._

Fucking hell.

The Dagger…is a little cold. At the moment, I can't tell if it's because of the Enchant or if it's because of the ambiance. We did learn one thing though: The energy from the Enchant will bleed into the surrounding atmosphere when handled incorrectly, and…if I were to try and enchant a seriously powerful Fire effect onto a weapon, the bled magic might actually kill us.

Food for thought. Also, the entire enchanting sequence cost me a full hour…which I did not realize while doing the work. That would be worth remembering in the event that harder spells cost me more time and make me forget to eat for like 36 hours.

Hmm…

The next day, I check the Dagger again and confirm that, yes, it was cold because of the ambient temperature rather than any inherent enchanted qualities.

On one hand, bummer.

On the other, I GOT 15 SKILL POINTS FROM THAT ONE (failed) ENCHANT!

I mean, I can't use magic anymore and I don't know how long this period lasts, but I don't care because 15 SKILL POINTS. Like that one failed enchanted levelled me so much I have actually caught up to Jake in raw numbers. If this was Oblivion I'd be crying with sadness, but it's not, so yay!

…Lessee. I also crossed another major threshold, so…

 _We take a few hours to decide._

For my major perk, I take Magic Breathing. I take double damage from magic in exchange for double recovery rate.

For my minor perks, I take 2 ranks of Replacement, 4 ranks of Dechant mastery, and 9 ranks of Magic recovery, so now my magic should recover a lot faster than it did before. The magic perks are a little too min-max-y for my tastes, but I have the sinking feeling that dealing with magic is going to be all I do two months from now, so I'm willing to take a combat hit in favor of having faster recovery speed. The minor munchkinism does cause my magic powers to recover in a day rather than…I dunno, forever, so that's good.

Bonus: I can now cast Healing Hands indefinitely because its (base) cost is less than my recovery rate.

 _In theory. In practice, we can cast Healing Hands for a full minute without feeling tired, which was something we could not do before._

…fortuitously placed level ups aside, the fact remains that we failed the enchanting business. Is enchanting so difficult that I'm getting massive experience from it, or is my enchanting skill just so bad that I've cleared like 30 ranks in one try?

Mm…I don't really know, I guess.

The only expedient is to try again!

 _So we do. We block out an hour after dinner to re-enchant the dagger._

…There aren't additional resources used beyond all of my magical power again. After our efforts, the dagger is still normal in exchange for no skill points. Hrm.

I don't know. So let's keep going until we succeed!

 _Over a period of five days, we attempt to enchant five daggers._

All were failures, and not even failures I could learn from. This…either I really, _desperately_ need soul gems, or there's some other requirement that I'm not understanding properly. I mean, I know that enchanting with a person's magical power has an inherent fail risk, but not knowing _why_ I'm failing is incredibly frustrating. There's definitely more to this that I currently do not understand.

Ugh.

…Well, no point fussing over it at the moment, because I'm still busy with my day job and a special project for Aria. Actually I've been working on it for the past two days, but eh.

 _Why?_

Dunno. Aria brought over a box of scrapped steel and dwarven gear. Most of it were in pieces and are obviously broken beyond repair, so they were melted down into ingots. 10 steel, 3 dwarven.

She wanted us to make weapons that would "be useful against Dragons" which…I mean, she didn't _say_ she was going to use them to kill a dragon that may or may not be haunting a watchtower to the west, but…yeah.

Alright, so how do I want to do this?

…

[3rd Person Camera, Two Days Later]

…

"What's a Battle-Born doing in the Clover?"

Idolaf, clad in his Imperial Armor, ignored the whispers of the poor. He was here for one job: to find the smith who made that now-broken sword. He was a little angry at himself for obliterating the man's name from his head, but to be fair the sword was, at the outset, nothing special. He's had to ask around for information on an irregular basis—he had a clan to run—and only now has he come to some new information placing the smith in the poor Clover district.

So he's here on a personal errand…just like somebody else, apparently. He could tell that the 'someone else' was not a part of the local riff-raff by virtue of the immaculate leather armor…and because he knew the person by name.

"Fancy seeing the Jarl's personal Housecarl here in the gullies." Idolaf says with a slight smile. "What brings you, Irileth?"

"A similar reason to you, I suspect." Irileth replies in good cheer. "We're both here to look for someone."

"As fate may have it, I believe we're going to the same place." Idolaf muses. "Strange how the world works."

"So it may seem." Irileth scans the rundown buildings for that sign she was sent to look for, the one with that strange-looking ribbon. "A bit of a shame that the greatest talent of Whiterun would have friends in a place like this."

 _I wouldn't call him the greatest._ Idolaf thought wryly. "Aye." He says and scans for the same sign.

Both of them find it in short order, on a street that's just a little bit shielded from the view from the main causeway.

"Is something amiss?" Irileth asks as she sees the small gaggle of people surrounding the front of the open-air store. She smells the iron in the air, feels the heat, and immediately deduces that it is a forge. "Why is she living _here_?"

"He's working here, I see." Idolaf mutters, paying no attention to Irileth's outburst.

The two of them watch as the small gaggle—low ranking adventurers and mercenaries by the looks of it—crowd the store. Once in a while, someone would actually buy something before leaving with an extremely wistful look back towards the store.

Idolaf raises an eyebrow and moves in to check out the merchandise. The storefront was extremely simple, per his expectations of a Clover district business. Fine (for the neighborhood) weapons are on display, hoisted by crude-looking weapon racks, alongside some shields (crude but well built) and a handful of silver trinkets.

He notices Aria, the New Face in Dragonsreach, sitting next to the forge and immediately realizes that Irileth was here for her. He marvels for a moment at how perfect she looked and then moves on.

His eyes then focus upon a very high-class looking girl in bright red hair. The girl mans a small potions stand next to the forge and sells small vials of potions to the obviously smitten young men, and the occasional smitten older men.

 _She lives here too?_ He resists the urge to smirk. _What a surprise…an asset not even the Gray-Manes will touch._ He walks up to the storefront after Irileth.

"Ah, hello!" The girl (Mell) says brightly. "You're a new face. Are you looking for something specific?"

"I'm a little busy at the moment." The man (Ash) manning the forge says with his back towards Idolaf. "If you want a piece, take a look at the pre-made ones. Otherwise, place your order with Mell there."

"I shall gladly…window shop, for now." Idolaf says and eyes one of the swords stored in the weapon rack. With a little apprehension, he palms its hilt and draws it a little. Apart from his breath catching in his throat, he felt no real difference. He then draws fully to examine the blade in more detail.

 _This seems to be similar to an Adrianne work._ Idolaf muses. _No frills in favor of simple, rugged construction._ Upon further inspection, he realized he was more right than he thought. Although Adrianne favored a simple, rugged forging pattern, she nevertheless took the time to decorate the swords that she considered higher quality and emblematic of her work.

The sword in Idolaf's hand right now was basically just a blade and a hilt. There was the crafter's insignia, the weird loop with a chain, but apart from that nothing else was visible. He…was now in a bit of doubt as to whether if his information was correct or not. Still, there was no harm in asking.

"Pardon me, but have you heard of the Gleaming Sword?" He says, masterfully making the inquiry sound like idle conversation.

Mell looks confused, and Ash did not seem to react. "Can't say I have." He says without missing a beat in his work.

"Really, chief?" One of the onlookers (a laborer by the looks of it) laughs. "We've all heard of it."

Ash was intrigued. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. Lars Battle-Born, the little kid, used the sword and fought off that dragon." The laborer says. "Apparently he summoned some kind of god and smote down the dragon in a single hit."

Everyone who was not the laborer immediately thought that the story sounds unnecessarily exaggerated _._ Actually, the laborer thought it sounded exaggerated too, but he's already said it, so what can he do.

"Given I saw the dragon buzz Rorikstead then leave…I'll take your word for it." Ash says.

 _Buzz?_ Idolaf didn't recognize that particular use of the term. "Regardless of what has happened with Lars, do you think you're capable of producing a sword of that quality?"

"Probably not." Ash replies bluntly, still absorbed in his work. "I still don't know what it is."

 _Shame._ Idolaf sighs. _Still, he sounds familiar, so I have at least found the correct person._

Irileth steps up now that Idolaf seemed to be finished with his inquiry. "Aria, do not forget that the mission is planned for today." She says tersely. "I hope you are ready."

"Vacation over?" Ash smirks. "It's almost ready."

Idolaf's interest was suddenly extremely perked. "What is?"

"Some new gear." Ash says. "Apparently Aria got her hands on some materials the castle didn't want."

"Scraps of steel and dwarven material." Irileth nods. "I thought you were taking them to Eorlund?" She asks Aria.

"Gray-Mane doesn't take materials from anyone but the ones he hires." Some other laborer laughs. "That's a capital offense to him, girl."

"I heard the same from the Companions before I made it to the Skyforge." Aria says. "So I'm settling on the next best option."

"Hear that, smith?" Irileth laughs. "You're the fallback plan she had." She says to some general chuckling and Aria's embarrassment.

"She's calling me her next choice compared to the Sky Forge?" Ash laughs, putting his final touches on the sword in front of him. "I'll take it."

"Regardless of your sword being ready or not, we leave on time." Irileth says. "If your gear is not ready, you will need to follow under your own power."

Aria nods in understanding.

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

I wasn't lying about not knowing about the Gleaming Sword, mind you. I legit don't know what that is.

 _Don't think it can be yours?_

I mean…it probably is. Let's be honest, it most likely is. While claiming it as mine would definitely feed my ego, there's the underlying problem of my skill, which is that I don't know _how_ the sword was doing…whatever the hell it was doing, and thus have no way of reproducing it. If I can't remake the sword then claiming credit is pretty useless.

Anyhoo…Aria's sword. More specifically, a collection of swords. "Swords".

So like I said, she gave me 10 steel and 3 dwarven ingots to make into a weapon to use against a flying target. She, despite my half-hearted prodding, would not admit that she's going up against a dragon, but we all know she's going dragonslaying.

So with the materials in hand, I'm making three throwing daggers. Each dagger takes 2 steel, 1 dwarven, and 3 irons, which I have on hand. The steel and dwarven go into making the weapon, and the iron goes into Reinforcement.

The dwarven ingots act as the core of the dagger. It's crude, because this is the first time I'm working with dwarven materials—hell, down here in the clover anything higher than shitty steel is nigh-impossible to obtain…reason why I'm doing good business is because my steel is amazing for the cost. Anyways, with the core built, the steel is then encased around the dagger into a vaguely dagger-like shape.

I say vaguely because I want to make damn sure they'll pierce dragonscale, and so I've been trimming the edge on the daggers as much as I'm able, while Replacing in some extra iron to maintain durability. The end process is a trio of daggers that are much heavier than their size would suggest. They have an aerodynamic profile that makes throwing them as easy as possible (so they're kind of just glorified blades) with better balance than I had expected. Moreover, I embedded a ruby into the tip of the dwarven core (and Replaced all loose areas around it with iron because, again, I'm Not Good At This Yet).

 _Why rubies?_

I wanna see if I can reproduce that Gleaming Sword business, and I used a ruby last time. This time, I fit the gems in with the hope that the daggers will _shank the fuck_ out of the dragon from a mile away.

So…when Battle-Born Senior and uh…that housecarl lady, showed up, I was pretty much done with the daggers. Once they were finished, I hand them over to Aria.

The finished daggers don't really have much of a 'finish' to them. They're streamlined to the best of my ability and are about a foot long from the blade tip to the grip with a nonexistent pommel. The grip itself is wrapped with some coarse linen so they won't slip during the throwing process. Overall, I'm pretty proud of them…first time I've made specialized daggers, so I'm happy they came out well.

 _Aria takes the trio of daggers and blink in surprise._

"These…are heavier than they look." She says after weighing them. "Can I try them?"

"Sure." I get a battered archery target (donated by the beer and meats guy across the street) and set it up next to the house.

We have a peanut gallery of about twenty people plus Battle-Born Senior and the housecarl lady. I forget what his name was…was it Odlaf? I don't think it was Odlaf. I'm totally gonna call him Odlaf in my head though.

Anyways, Aria takes her position, readies one dagger, and lets loose.

It arcs rather sharply downwards for its size and hits the dirt a good foot before it reaches the target. It hits the dirt and bounces off with a harmless clatter.

Cue giggling from the peanut gallery.

 _Nobody notices the dagger's painless entry and exit through the ground (for about an inch)._

"These really are heavier than they look." Aria says…with a disturbingly happy note in her voice.

As we all kind of take Aria's failed throw in stride, she draws the second dagger and makes a full-powered throw. It slams into the target with resounding force and unbalances the target.

 _Everyone is suddenly silent._

No shit. Aria's second throw slammed into the target dead-center.

"Good." She says with the barest hint of a frown. A frown?

 _She recovers the two daggers and readies the third._

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Aria takes lazy aim at the target, and throws the dagger with every last ounce of her strength.

The dagger impacts with reverberating force and firmly sends the target back. It totters on its two hind legs, loses balance, and leans against the wall behind it with an odd sense of finality.

Cue clapping and gasps from the peanut gallery.

Aria, however, stares at the knife with a very visible frown.

 _Is there something wrong with those knives?_ Idolaf frowns as well, noting Aria's expression.

Irileth also notes something off with the thrown knife (it was too shoddily made to be a dagger as far as she was concerned). She had chosen to stand behind Aria to get a better look at the knife's flying pattern. She wasn't quite sure what she saw, but it looked as if the knife had…curved, somehow? A trick of the light, surely.

Irileth wasn't new to throwing weapons. Ranged weapons curve in flight, and poorer ones "fly according to their quality". As far as she could tell, the knives in Aria's possession weren't so poorly built that they were imbalanced in their steel content. Or else, she reasons, she was just a bit incorrect in her observations due to her current position.

After all, the idea that a knife could curve and fly _up_ was impossible.

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

Given that Aria hasn't kicked my ass I'm going to assume that the daggers are to her liking…or at least she'll tolerate them.

 _She re-sheathes all three daggers and fastens them to her belt._

"You like 'em?" I grin.

She winks at me. "So-so."

"Interesting looking knives you got there." The Housecarl( _Irileth)_ muses, wandering over to my storefront. "Think you can make another one in half an hour?"

Ahahaa "no. I don't have the materials on hand anyways." Why does she want one?

"Damn shame." She says and…oh hey, that's neat.

 _What?_

Jake came across some silver during a trip some days back, which resulted in me having a small chunk of silver ore to work with. It didn't give me a lot of material, but there was enough for me to make three crude pieces of…jewelry.

The Housecarl's looking at the small jewelry box. "Are these yours too?" She asks, holding up a small silver charm (teardrop shape).

"Yeah, I wanted to try my hand at fine smithing." I reply. "How does it look?"

"Not bad for a trial run." She says honestly. "In lieu of a dagger, I'll take this for twenty septims."

Eeh…"Sure." Mell valued it at a little over twenty, so this is fine.

 _Mell?_

She has an uncanny sense of the market, which…is useful, because at the moment, I do not. So I use her expertise when determining prices.

Anyways, the Housecarl lady takes her purse, grabs a small batch of coins, and lay them on Mell's little lectern of a table. Mell then expertly counts out twenty and gives the rest back to the Housecarl.

"Call this a vote of confidence from your friend there." She says with a smirk and a nod to Aria. "I'm going on ahead."

…

So…Aria's going dragonslaying. She's not admitting that she's going dragonslaying, but we all know she is.

 _Are we going with her?_

…No, we're not. None of us are. Jake's about the only one with the combat experience to fight alongside Aria but uh…she turned him down. She says it's not important enough to need him, which is total bullshit.

The main reason why none of us are accompanying Aria is pretty simple: we couldn't handle the dragon's roar back in Rorikstead. Looking back, it was probably an intimidation based thu'um, and all of us save Aria failed the check. Odds are, if we go and join the fight, and the dragon uses that shout again, she might be hampered trying to chase down the dragon as it chase us down.

So…yes, no point in going.

 _What do you plan to do though?_

Well…

I'm not much of a religious man, but in a time like this, I don't mind paying a visit to a temple.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

Honestly, minor attacks on bandit camps are a footnote in Aria's glorious history to become the Dragonborn.


	7. Versus: Mirmulnir

{ === + === }

[3rd Person Camera]

Aria departs from Whiterun with more than just a little bit of doubt in her mind.

The court mage of Dragonsreach, Farengar Secret-Fire, had come to an epiphany concerning the issue with the dragon. After days of arduous research, he has confirmed that a short-term solution for the dragon issue was to place the scale that was obtained from the dragon in a high place and then incinerate it, thus creating a new focal point for the dragon to focus on and diverting its attention from Whiterun.

Everybody who knew even a little bit of magic knew Farengar was bullshitting. _Farengar_ knew he was bullshitting. He was just doing this as an experiment to learn more about the properties of dragonscales. He would have liked to do the experiment on his own, but Balgruuf needed an immediate patch to a long-term solution (general fear of Dragon attacks), so…

Farengar watches from his perch atop Whiterun's Southern Watchtower and sees a small party of eight guards or so approach. Trailing them is a cart holding the Dragonstone, and leading them is the Housecarl Irileth.

"Ah, it's about time." Farengar calls down. "I thought you would never show up!"

"I considered sending a substitute." Irileth calls back in good cheer. "Now hurry it up with your magical nonsense before we all die of old age."

Farengar smirks. "Alright, our guards are here." He says to his two assistants. "Let's begin."

The two assistants light the steel brazier that acts as the light on top of the watchtower, throw in some fire salts, and then toss in the small piece of dragonscale with barely any fanfare. All three of them then grab their rolls of paper and stare intently at the dragonscale.

"Hmm." Farengar muses after about a minute. "The dragonscale seems to be largely impervious to fire; I see no difference in its lines." He's referring to the scale's magic lines. The magical lines on a human, when exposed to damaging elements like fire, would shift and move according to the flames.

"Confirmed." Helper A says. "The lines seem to absorb the fire's strength and bleed it. If only we could study it further." None of their tools were very useful in the art of breaking down the scales in any way.

The three of them continue to make little to no progress in understanding the dragonscale over the next hour.

Above, over a bank of clouds, Mirmulnir felt the faint string of his magical power below him. All dragonscales are inherently magical objects, and dragons can detect each other over long distances through the power radiated by these scales. In a way, this is why dragons are able to stay away from each other unless there is a seriously good reason to come together.

 _This is also why Alduin is special: he can detect a dragon's soul rather than its magical power. This will in no way backfire on our poor Aria in the future._

Mirmulnir, curious about why he felt his own power, banks a little lower to see a small fire atop a rock building.

"{Interesting.}" He mumbles.

Aria perks up. Previously she was _hellishly_ bored, and now she thought she heard something. Not willing to take unnecessary chances, she stands and begins to scan the sky.

Irileth, hearing Aria stand up and having the experience to take cues, does so as well. "Farengar, we might have company!" She calls out as a warning.

"Yes, yes." Farengar says dismissively with a wave to his guards. The six guards, half of the normal garrison at the tower, all notch their bows and watch the sky.

" **Laas Yah Nir.** " Mirmulnir says in a low, rumbling roar, revealing the entirety of the possible threats beneath him. Of the thirty beings in attendance, four had high enough magical power to be considered a human 'mage', and the rest were…chaff. He laughs. " **Su Grah Dun.** {The battle will be joined.}" He begins to circle as the shout of elemental fury infuses his body.

Aria stomach pulls suddenly, as if responding to something. "It's coming." She says as a warning.

The lack of confusion in her voice tells Irileth all she needs to know. "Farengar! Pack it up!"

"Aye." Farengar may not value Irileth's knowledge of the methodology of research, but he wasn't dumb enough to ignore her instincts. "Everybody! Indoors, now!" He yells.

A fraction too late.

" **Yor Tool Shul!** "

A massive blast of fire suddenly rain from the sky and bathe the stone tower. Farengar feels himself shoved through the tower's open-air spiral staircase, and stumbles down a few steps. He turns just in time to see the six guards form a shield wall toward the sky.

The shield wall stood no chance against the blast of dragonfire and melt under the flames. Farengar feels the tower's temperature spike and coat himself with ice to counteract some of the effect.

"Shit!" Irileth readies her bow. "Spread out and kill it!" She orders the remaining soldiers (two dozen men in total) who dutifully fan out and ready themselves for the dragon that they could see was coming.

" **Wuld Nah Kest!** "

Said dragon suddenly bullets onto the scene and slams onto the top of the watchtower with its massive claws. The stone battlements of the tower shatter under the pressure and fly every which way, becoming their own threats even as Mirmulnir breathes another blast of fire onto the watching guards below. He manages to catch one guard with the breath and scorch him inside his own armor. Another guard is struck by the falling masonry and is crushed.

The rest of the guards fire a salvo of arrows in response. The arrows plink uselessly off of Mirmulnir's scales, dealing no damage. One particular arrow zooms incredibly close to his eye, but it misses and his armored eyelid. Mirmulnir could laugh if he wasn't forcing himself to take this fight seriously.

"Damn." Aria readies another arrow and backs away. "Why does this place have to be a damned guard tower?!" She bemoans the fact that, apart from the tower itself (which the dragon was currently perched on) there was literally no cover anywhere else. Sure, there was the curved ramp leading up to the tower's entrance, but it wasn't protection because it was literally right underneath the dragon's nose.

Mirmulnir sights another guard and melts him down with a blast of fire before taking off into the sky again. Though it wasn't taking damage, the arrows plinking away at its back made it very annoyed at the guards it couldn't currently see. As it takes into the air, another arrow zips into his field of vision and strikes him dead-on in the torso. This strike actually catches his attention because it did damage. It was superficial damage, but this was the first time in a long time that anybody has landed such a solid hit.

Mirmulnir zeroes in on the culprit, the Dunmer, before pulling up out of bow range.

"Not deep enough, I see." Irileth mutters. "You two!" She yells at a pair of guards close to the tower entrance. "Open it up and get Farengar out of there!"

"Aye!" Two guards rush up the stone ramp and wrench open the door, then instinctively back away from the wall of hot air and the accompanying smell of fire and charred flesh.

"Farengar!" Irileth yells, running towards the ramp to visually confirm that he was safe.

"I'm alive." Farengar says as he tumbles out of the open door, his body glistening with flecks of ice and his robe smoking in various places. "Though I can't say the same for my assistants."

"Up above!" Another guard yells, letting loose an arrow.

Mirmulnir aims for the front of the tower and makes a low flying pass over the area, letting his massive size create an equally massive blast of wind that staggers the guards below him. Irileth, seeing the dragon zoom towards her, quickly falls flat on her back, draws her bow with her leg, and fires just as she sees Mirmulnir's belly over her head. She hits, and Mirmulnir visibly flinches at the impact…if only a little.

"{Again?}" Mirmulnir rumbles. He makes a quick turn and lands as Irileth rolls to her feet, her previous cover (the ramp) now suddenly turning into a wall behind her. "{Worthy of respect.}" He opens his mouth.

"Here!" One of the guards responsible for opening the tower rushes over and extends an arm. Without looking, Irileth takes the outstretched hand.

" **Yor Tool Shul!** "

Irileth and the guard dive off of the ramp just as the fire breath scorches the airspace. It passes over their head without dealing direct damage.

"Fuck me!" The guard cries and tears off his helmet as it heats dangerously due to the overflying flames.

Farengar, in retaliation, fires two ice bolts at Mirmulnir, but they melt and dissolve before reaching the target due to the fire breath's lingering heat. "As expect of dragonflames." He mutters, and then focuses his magical power to unleash a bolt of lightning. It scatters and fizzles before hitting its mark. "As expected of a dragon in general." He seethes as the dragon's fire breath ends, his interference having done nothing.

Mirmulnir had noticed a trio of guards attempting to strike at its flank. While its breath was active, it pretended to ignore them in favor of maintaining its breath against the stone ramp. Assuming that the dragon did not notice, the guards inch close and, upon finding their range, charge. Mirmulnir thus cut his breath and immediately swings with his tail, putting the mass of his entire body into the three guards via that singular tail strike. All three guards splatter against the masonry and dies on impact. As Mirmulnir slows and exits his tail swing, he notices the human with the highest magical power charge at him. "{Irritating.}"

Aria timed her strike at the precise moment when Mirmulnir slows down, forcing him to either come to a full stop or continue his very easily telegraphed strike. He took the latter choice and sped up, whipping his tail around to catch her in her charge.

Aria dive-rolls over the tail as it swings by, not losing a step in her stride and ram her sword full-speed at Mirmulnir's hide. The sword flexes and bends heavily for a second before the strength of her charge snaps it in half. Unconcerned, she draws a spare axe and hacks into his scales, chipping off a tiny piece…though she can't tell if it was the axe or the scales.

Mirmulnir, now rather pissed, stops his spin so as to bring his claw into this white-haired eyesore. Her two strikes were sufficiently powerful enough that he had to shift his attention to her and reinforce his scales before she struck. This shift in attention allowed a barrage of arrows to strike in the opposite flank, and the sudden pricks of pain caused him to roar in anger. The damage caused him to reflexively shift his focus, which, in turn, allowed Aria to bury her axe in much deeper than she had anticipated.

He gives his body a dog-like shake, forcing Aria to back off or be hit by a wing. "{I underestimated you.}" He concedes, and takes to the skies again. "{I will not do so again.}" As he ascends, a second barrage of arrows plinks at his tail for no damage.

"I guess that means it gets to leave." A guard mutters as Mirmulnir climbs above the increasingly thick layer of clouds. "How many did we lose?" He asks Irileth.

"Half, by the looks of it." Irileth mutters. _All this damage and nothing to show for it._ She seethes internally. _How am I going to explain this to Balgruuf?_ She gives a signal for her men to rally and prepare.

" **Wuld Nah Kest!** "

Mirmulnir, having reoriented himself above the cloud line, zeroed in on the puny little humans and made another high-speed dive onto the ground. He lands on the stone ramp and cracks it in half, sending shrapnel and debris every which way. The impact also knocks everybody who's not Mirmulnir back and on their feet.

He pays special attention to Irileth. The guard next to her, sensing danger, splits and runs as fast as he can to a new position.

" **Yol Tool Shul!** "

Irileth, ever nimble, felt the flames lick at her heel as she scrambles to her feet and dash towards the dragon.

In response, Mirmulnir makes a sweep with his tail while corralling in his prey with his breath, cutting it at the last possible second to save energy.

 _While doing this his fire breath smothers and incinerates two more guards._

The flames ignite Irileth's bow, and she could do nothing but ignore it as the tail comes zooming into her field of vision. She jumps and dives over it, landing with a ramshackle roll that dislocates her shoulder and snaps her already burning bow. She tosses it aside just as Mirmulnir's head twists around again.

" **Fus Roh Dah!"**

The blast of pure kinetic energy sends Irileth flying, and she feels her organs compress painfully against her ribcage as she is sent sprawling back a good twenty feet. She lands in shambles and rolls to a stop, but nevertheless scrambles to her feet through the pain of several broken bones.

The guards (and Aria and Farengar) sees Mirmulnir's hell-bent focus on Irileth and let loose their bows and spells, striking into his rear and dealing a little damage. Mirmulnir slams his tail on the ground and creates shockwaves that slightly staggers the guards, throwing off their aim just slightly enough for their shots to strike his scales at less-than-useful angles. Regardless, he's bought himself time.

 **"Yol Tool Shul!"**

Irileth, despite her best efforts, could not help but be engulfed by the flames.

Mirmulnir then feels a hefty strike aimed precisely at his head. The massive ball of ice throws off his aim, and he cuts off his fire breath early in favor of focusing on Farengar, the source of that ice. So focused was he that he did not notice Irileth slowly crawl away.

The fire had burned away her leathers, eating away the straps so the bigger pieces could be shed before they melted to her skin. The air around her burned into her skin even as she scurried away, and she had to abandon her spare swords as they scalded to the touch…but she was alive, despite taking a full-blast fire breath for a few seconds. Disregarding her new state of nakedness, she quickly scrambles over to the burned corpse of a guard and liberate him of his sword (his bow was quite fucked). Knowing that she now lacked the ability to make meaningful contribution to the battle, she bides her time and observes.

Mirmulnir, for his part, unleashes a breath of fire at Farengar in retaliation to getting hit by a massive thing of ice. Farengar, not having moved very far from the tower, hurriedly retreats back into the tower, shuts the door behind him, throws up a ward, and then blast the door with a stream of Frost magic to prevent it from overheating.

While Mirmulnir's breath did not reach into the tower, he did burn down the door and melt its copper hinges. He was about to unleash a second strike when he suddenly notes a blur at his feet.

The sheer shock of seeing someone— _anyone—_ this far inside his zone of control caused him to freeze for just a moment. Aria, not one for missing chances, pulls out one of Ash's throwing knives and, using it to stab, aims it right at Mirmulnir's eye.

The dragon overcomes his shock quickly enough, and he turns his head away from the strike just enough for Aria's arm to catch on his maw, sending the knife onto his armored snout. The knife, like all other weapons, hits and glances off with no effect.

Mirmulnir then whips his head back. Aria, being more or less attached to said head, is flung away with her knife still in hand. She lands with a light hop to keep her footing, and sees Mirmulnir's claw reach for her. She ducks and rolls back, using her knife as a little bit of additional guard against his talons just in case. The claw catches the tip of the knife and shaves it off with no effort, revealing the tip of the dwarven metal core inside.

Aria sheathes that knife and pulls another one while beating herself up about not having enough spare weapons.

Mirmulnir takes another barrage of arrow and angrily sweeps the offending guards (hiding behind the tower's walls) with a blast of fire. The guards retreat further behind their cover but still feel the heat of the breath singe the air.

Aria, about to charge the dragon once again, watches as it launches itself into the air with a…jump? It zips over the tower, barely clearing it with its claws, and drop right onto the guards that had retreated from its breath. The guards, barely having the time to react, nevertheless toss their bows and ready their axes.

Mirmulnir, having way more initiative in this case, swats at them with his claws. The first swing cuts deep into a guard's armor and, though not fully penetrating, nevertheless still wind him severely. The second swing was aimed a little high and shears off the other two guards' heads despite their best efforts to guard with their axes.

The first guard makes a weak, retaliatory swing at the dragon's arm. Mirmulnir, in response, tears his talon away from the guard and then slams it down over his head.

Aria, seeing Mirmulnir's head barely unblocked by the watchtower, readies a second knife and throws it at him with all of her strength.

Mirmulnir sees the girl to his distant right and the throwing motion she just executed, and immediately leaps into the air with a powerful burst from his legs.

The knife, unseen by everybody, curves slightly upwards in its flight and nicks Mirmulnir's tail. It makes a small cut that Mirmulnir doesn't notice and shatters rather extravagantly, leaving just the dwarven metal core to fall uselessly toward the ground. Mirmulnir switches his attention to Aria.

Aria, sensing danger, readies her bow. As the dragon swoops down at her, she lets loose an arrow before bolting forwards at top speed.

The arrow strikes Mirmulnir's chin, causing him great annoyance. He lands with the intention of crushing this annoying pest of a girl, but she was already behind him, on her feet, and running towards him again. Before he could turn around, the feeling, the unmistakable weight of…someone, trying to crawl onto his back, occupy his mind.

Mirmulnir, momentarily surprised, decided that he doesn't care. " **Wuld Nah Kest**!"

Aria suddenly found herself without footing, as the dragon bullets into the sky without her. She was still a good five feet off the ground before he launched, and the sudden change of footing means that she slams into the ground, flat on her back. She is winded.

Mirmulnir twists his neck to target the ground, but otherwise still doesn't care. " **Yor Tool Shul**!"

Aria wraps herself in layers upon layers of biting frost as the blast of fire engulfs her dead-on. Fortunately, her position of lying flat on the ground shields her slightly.

Again, Mirmulnir feels a surge of magical power and feels his head blasted by lightning. He cuts his fire breath early and is now _extremely_ pissed at Farengar.

Aria shrugs off the burning scraps of her armor and draws the one remaining knife. She coats her hand with frost to avoid being burned by the metal until they cool.

Mirmulnir lands on top of the tower once more and sticks his head into the staircase entrance.

"Cripes." Farengar mutters as he beats a hasty retreat out of the tower. He barely clears the stone door before the dragonfire sears the entirety of the tower and sets everything inside alight.

Mirmulnir climbs down the tower like a giant, overgrown bat, taking sporadic arrow fire for no damage. He has only one goal at this point, and that is to eat this irritating magic-throwing human that keeps interrupting its breath attacks. He was so annoyed that it never really occurred to him that Farengar's magical attacks were working in the first place.

…Though to be fair Farengar has no idea why his magical attacks were working either, and honestly he's a little too preoccupied right now to worry about that little piece of information.

Either way, Mirmulnir makes it a point to crawl right up to Farengar to assert dominance before noticing a blur of white running at him.

Aria, unarmed, picked up the closest thing she could get as a weapon (a block of stone) and just hurled it at Mirmulnir with every ounce of her strength. Mirmulnir, suitably surprised by this, takes the hit full-on in the face. He is, understandably, a little bit angry at this.

 **"Yor Tool Shul!"**

Aria dives away from the incoming breath of fire while still charging towards Mirmulnir. Her speed in the dash allows her to blaze by the fire before it has the time to seriously burn her skin through her coat of ice. She runs past his head as closely as she dares so he would have to spend more time to aim and less to maintain the breath (so she thinks).

Irileth, circling the battlefield, stumbles upon the Aria's chipped knife. Remembering where the knife came from, she picks it up and palms it. As she watches the dragon track Aria with its fire breath and incinerate even more of the ground, she was struck with one memory, and one thought.

The memory was one where she saw the knife in Aria's practice, where it seemed to curve…

The thought was much simpler. _I'm going to send this fucking thing right into his eye._

Irileth, temporarily abandoning her philosophy that the wielder of a weapon determines its usefulness, decides to place her full faith in the odd strength of this dagger and wishes with all of her heart that it would _fly into the dragon's fucking eye_ , and, for once in her life, throws a throwing knife without really trying to aim it. She still throws it in the general direction of Mirmulnir, though.

Both Mirmulnir and Aria hear an otherworldly, faint wail in the air. Almost instinctively they both stop what they're doing to look around. Mirmulnir, in an effort to trace the sound, turns his head towards the knife, thus ruining the targeting solution of the knife had it been thrown directly at his eye.

The knife, of course, was not thrown at his eye, not even close. It sails high over Mirmulnir's head before making an exaggeratedly sharp turn towards Mirmulnir's eye.

Mirmulnir, hearing the wail grow louder, instinctively closes his eyes and readies himself to take flight.

Aria, sensing the sudden lack of aggression behind her, skids to a halt and almost trips on the burned grass. She hastily changes directions and sprints directly at Mirmulnir's face and screams her intent to commit bloody murder.

Mirmulnir, hearing Aria's battle cry, snaps his eyes open…just in time for the knife to bury itself deep into his left eye. As a bonus, the fragile steel of the knife shatter like a grenade and slice the eyeball to ribbons, causing Mirmulnir to scream in pain.

Aria, seeing this damage, notices strands of light flow from Mirmulnir towards her. Suddenly, she…knew. She couldn't explain what she knew or how she knew it, but she had this sudden sense of understanding that was hard to comprehend and even harder to put into words. That said, though she couldn't place what she learned into words…what she learned were, ultimately, words.

And she wasn't about to just let the opportunity pass by.

 **"Fus Ro Dah!"**

Mirmulnir, while still reeling in pain, felt himself buffeted by an unrelenting force. Staggering from the hit, he opened his good eye to glare at the source of the shout, fully expecting a rogue dragon. Instead, he saw the pale figure of Aria, with smoke rising from her devilishly grinning mouth.

"{Dragonborn.}" Mirmulnir growls, almost a warning to himself. **"Wuld Nah—"**

Aria breaks Mirmulnir's escape with another unrelenting force as she charges forward. Mirmulnir, now unbalanced, snarl at Aria's approach and readies himself for a fight with his claws.

 **"Wuld Nah Kest!"**

Aria bullets forward, clear past Mirmulnir's defense, and lands on his snout. Before he could respond, she flips her last knife from Ash and jams it into his other eye. Though the strike was not as deep as Irileth's tossed knife, the pain was enough to cause Mirmulnir to flinch and roar.

Aria, not one to pass up a good chance for a great sneak attack, aims herself at Mirmulnir's open mouth.

 **"Yor Tool Shul!"**

A blast of fire stampedes through Mirmulnir's body, scorching him from the inside out. The burning pain causes him to roar in reflex, blasting Aria away with his voice (she didn't have much of a good grip on him anyways). Still, the damage was done, and Mirmulnir was no longer able to maintain his focus.

The other guards take this opportunity to turn Mirmulnir into a pincushion before moving in with their blades. Mirmulnir, badly wounded, gives next to no resistance as Irileth, borrowing a greataxe from a guard, deals the coup de grace and separates his neck from the rest of his body.

 _Technically it wasn't a separation, just a deep cut, but who's counting?_

 _…_

With Mirmulnir no longer moving, the survivors of the fight gather around it to inspect their kill, taking care to avoid the many small fires now raging in the grassland around them.

"By Stendarr, what a battle." A Guard (Guard A) breathes. "Is it really dead?"

"It better be." Irileth mutters. "You there." She points to two guards. "Check the tower for damages. I want to know if it's salvageable after all this."

"And bring fresh clothing if you can find any." Farengar adds, his robes having burned to cinders. "I daresay all of us need some right now."

When it became clear that dragonfire wasn't going to be stopped by some measly chainmail, all the guards still alive threw it off of them as quickly as they could. Some of them had their clothing burned by the dragon's fire, like Irileth and Aria, and were standing around entirely naked.

Aria is modest enough to try and cover up. Irileth, with her toned and scarred body, could care less.

"By Stendarr indeed." Irileth sighs. "Was this dragon powerful?" She asks Farengar.

"For obvious reasons I can't answer that." Farengar replies. "But it's fair to say that, after its defeat, the other dragons may become more cautious…or more deceiving." He inspects the dragon's shattered left eye. "What caused this?"

"No clue." Irileth shrugs. "But it might be the knife that I threw at it."

"Interesting." Farengar takes note. "I think I've learned much today." He says, more to console himself than anything else. "I'll be returning to catalog my findings."

"Escort him." Irileth nods to four of the healthiest guards. "Last thing we need is an accident after a fight like this."

"So…you're the dragonborn." Guard E says in an awed voice to Aria, taking care not to gawk.

Aria was not familiar with the term. "Dragonborn?"

"Someone who could Shout, like the dragons." Guard F says with zero issues gawking. "You did it against that thing, didn't you?" She then feels bad about gawking as she sees the swaths of scorch marks on Aria's otherwise perfect-looking skin.

"I…suppose." Aria nods slowly. She wasn't worried about what they were saying.

She was worried about the milk-like energy flowing from the dead dragon into her body. Given that nobody else was commenting on it, she assumed that nobody else was able to see it.

"Here." The two guards scouring the tower return with some sturdy but cheap looking clothing. "Also, I found this." One of them holds up Irileth's utility pouch.

"Thanks." Irileth gets dressed. "What a disaster…" She sighs again, the adrenaline in her body finally calming down. "You lot." She gestures to six of the guards. "Stay put and put out any fires you see." They nod. "Everyone else, we're heading back to Whiterun."

"What do we do with this?" Guard A kicks Mirmulnir's corpse.

"We'll call some workers and have them bring it home." Irileth digs around in her pouch to see what's left. "I daresay the butchers would love to get their hands on dragonflesh." She pulls out something like silver powder and tosses it away with a frown. "What about you, Aria?"

"She's the dragonborn, Housecarl." Guard B says with the tone of correcting her. "She deserves respect."

"All I care about is the dead dragon." Irileth replies with a tone of supreme indifference. "What will you do, Aria?" She asks again.

"I'm not sure." Aria replies, feeling the fatigue hit her all at once. "I think I'll rest for a while."

"I think we could all use a nap after this." Irileth agrees, scanning the now crumbling southern watchtower and the blackened earth around it.

…

[Post-Action Report]

…

Of the 30 guards sent on the mission, 14 returned with various injuries. Of Farengar's three assistants, none survived the initial attack.

Balgruuf, though unhappy about the loss of life, nevertheless celebrated the death of a dragon (which, of course, was paraded around Whiterun as a trophy). In the interest of finding out how best to counteract a dragon's breath, and taking heed of the fact that almost none of their equipment was effective against its scales, Balgruuf had the dragon dissected down to the last nail and had its resources spread out among the city's alchemists, mages, smiths, and tailors, in hopes of finding out just exactly how its defenses could be bypassed.

 _Remember that dragonscales are more effective when magic (in the form of the dragon's focus) is channeled through them. Though still quite tough, scales and bones by themselves are not too difficult to breach. At their current, inert, form, they have roughly the defensive value of steel (but a bit better) while having the lighter weight of elven armor (but a bit worse). Either way, it's impressive, but not really earth shattering._

Aria, credited by Irileth as the deciding factor of the fight, was promoted as a Thane of Whiterun, with Lydia assigned to her as a housecarl. As Aria opted to go home and Lydia has room and board in Dragonsreach, the two would not meet until Aria actually calls upon her services.

Irileth privately told Balgruuf and Farengar of Ash's smithy.

 _She is also blissfully unaware of the connection between why she survived being blasted in the face by dragonfire and her sudden loss of one silvery accessory._

As a part of her reward, Aria had claimed quite the sizable load of dragonscales and bones (besides her cash and enchanted item reward), and dumped them onto Ash.

To quote him: "What the fuck am I supposed to do with this?!"

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

So I've purchased and have been playing a lot of Mount and Blade and that is NOT AT ALL why this chapter came out so slowly.


	8. The Who's the Dragonborn? Experience

{ === + === }

[First Person Camera]

…

So…

Aria left to fight a dragon, came home in entirely different clothing, looking like hell, and then, the next day, the dragon gets paraded through the street, and the next day after that I get like a hundred pounds of bones and scales dumped into my workshop.

…Like, what?

What the fuck? What am I supposed to do with a hundred pounds of dead dragon crap?

…Ok, so let me back up for a second here.

I am not complaining about the fact that she is giving me free stuff. I like free stuff, especially when the free stuff is of a quantity and quality that I would not get to touch otherwise.

I am complaining because dealing with the Dwarven metal has showed a serious lack of functionality for my forge. Namely, it can't really deal with Dwarven metal.

Since my forge can't deal with Dwarven metal, I have absolutely zero belief in my forge's ability to deal with dragonscales and dragonbones either.

 _How could it not deal with dwarven metal?_

I'll go over it later.

Anyways…uh…Aria came home with serious exhaustion and more than her share of burns. Mell took a look at her and administered some potions for fire resistance and helped trim her hair down so the burned sections don't look as out of place.

As shallow as this sounds: dealing with that dragon has seriously marred Aria's Mary-Sue-esque beauty…but she's still pretty, just, y'know, no longer in the "porcelain-doll" kind of sense. Though I couldn't see the rest of her skin (for obvious reasons) I imagine she has a shitton of burns on her body. Her hair's short now, which is a little bit of a bummer.

I like long hair. I _really_ like long hai-ok you know what let's just get off of that topic

Following the battle, Aria's now sleeping inside our house. Mell wakes her up on occasion to feed her potions, but for the most part she's hibernating.

…well, I'm just glad it worked out ok. In game, the fight against the first dragon was basically a tutorial on how to not die to a dragon, which meant it was a pretty safe thing to do. Here…well, the bodies they brought back, and the ceremonial guard armors offered to the catacombs to honor soldiers without recoverable bodies…

…yeah. Not a pretty sight.

…

[One Day Later]

…

 _Four days after the end of the last chapter._

A sound like clapping thunder tears through the balmy summer sky. I assume that it's the Greybeards calling for the Dovakiin.

But, yeah, without being the Dragonborn, the sound is basically a rumbling of thunder rather than, y'know, an old dude calling for the Dovakiin.

Aria sleeps through it, because of course she does.

 _And what are we doing?_

More of the same? The stack of dragonstuff brought to our house meant that people now come to gawk. I can't really expend it right now, so it's just kinda…sitting there, under a large piece of cloth I kinda…y'know, threw over it. With the free time that I've had so far, I've managed to put my hands on some of the scales and bones and have so far made no progress, but at least I know that my current tools (plus a bonecrafting kit that I bought) are fucking useless. Maybe my arms just aren't strong enough?

I did eat some of the dragonmeat though. It's pretty good, if a bit tough.

So…oh, hello.

 _We see Irileth strolling towards us._

She's in street clothes (kinda, sorta) rather than her standard leather armor. If memory serves, she was also in the fight and thus would have gotten the shit burned out of her. I hope she's ok.

 _As she gets closer, we see but don't really register the burn patches on her face._

"Can I help you?" I ask as it becomes clear that she's here for us. I'm alone, there's really not much street presence, and I'm bored. My regulars are at work, after all.

 _Jake and Eric are out on their escort duties, and Mell is administering anti-burn potions to Aria._

I think she's giving Aria a rubdown, given the quantity she's using. I don't know why she's doing this, to be honest, but I'm not an alchemist, so eh.

"Yes…" Irileth says, and hands over a…slip…of paper. How's the literacy rate in Skyrim, anyway?

 _We take the paper and read it. We don't notice Irileth's slightly proud look._

Huh…Really now? "Uh…" I tap the piece of paper. "Is this considered money?"

"It is a contract made with the blessings of the Jarl." Irileth says. "As such, it might as well be."

Hum. "Well, I can't guarantee the results, because I'm not sure how the production method actually works. Is that ok?"

She frowns. "Do what you can, I suppose."

 _She sticks around a little longer to scan the surroundings and politely inquire about the state of Aria's health before leaving. What was that about?_

She's giving me a purse of 5000 gold to create a set of six throwing knives for her, of the same kind as I provided to Aria, with all of my expenses covered by the Jarl, no questions asked. Reward given upon delivery.

I assume it's because there was something special about the knives that I gave to Aria, but apart from the fact that they seem to explode I can't say I know why she want them so badly.

…Why did the knives explode anyway? Why did the dwarven cores not explode? Up until this point I didn't have the knives…Irileth brought over the cores of the daggers that were used on the dragon.

One of them had a shorn-off tip, one with just the core, and one that seemed to be ok, if a little bit sticky despite the guards' best effort to wash whatever was on the knife off. It's probably dragon blood.

…mmm…well, I created the knives with the hope that they will stab the dragon that Aria was up against. It's probably safe to say that the wish caused some kind of special effect to be applied to the knife, much like that Gleaming Sword business.

Which means that I should probably create these knives with a similar feeling, no?

 _Speaking of the knives…_

Ah, yeah, the issue with Dwarven Metal.

I've done a little bit of research, and…well, first things first. Metals in this 'real world' of Skyrim doesn't follow a straight upgrade path. In game, Dwarven is basically a straight defensive upgrade over Steel, and Orcish is a straight upgrade over Dwarven (and of course dragon is the best there is). In this world, the metals kind of have their own perks and weaknesses. So…Let's say that Steel is the 'average' that we're comparing everything to, and remember that I've only done a little bit of reading.

So! Iron gear is cheaper than steel and inferior, but easier to produce. Orcish gear is superior (by far) but isn't too flexible, and if you're using it to build armor (without compromising the joints) then the wearer would have to be pretty strong to make effective use of said armor. Strong Orcish warriors in full Orcish armor are therefore well respected, because holy fucking _shit_ are they good at their jobs.

 _We are speculating._

Dwarven, then, is…physically less defensive than steel, but is more resilient to magic and other forms of damage (and is heavier). This is basically the problem. Because of the inherent resiliency to non-physical damage and—what I believe is—its natural resiliency towards heating, it's _incredibly_ difficult for me to heat the ingots to the point where I could have the time to work with it.

Now obviously my lack of skill hampers working with the material as well, but in general it's just not a good situation. Still, I'm going to put in the effort and make the cores as well as possible, if only because I don't want Irileth to die.

…

 _It takes us the better part of three days to craft the knives._

Of the six knives, two are straight upgrades, with the other four being stockier and broader for more generalized utility. Since the knives I made for Aria had a penchant for exploding, I figured that having some knives that didn't blow up would be good for long-term use.

…that said, it's pretty doubtful that the knives will explode when it comes into contact with anything other than a dragon. Why did it explode when it come into contact with a dragon is another question entirely, and one that I…can't really answer at this point.

Meh, whatevs.

…Speaking of dragons.

It seems that the message of "Greybeards are looking for the Dovakiin" have now become common knowledge, as I'm just hearing it everywhere now. Since business has slowed down a little, it gave me some extra time to walk around the town and hoo _boy_ is the Dragonborn business a big deal.

In game, you don't really get to see how it affects the lives of literally everybody else. One of the guards go "maybe I'm the Dragonborn" or something and that's more or less it.

In reality, when it becomes common knowledge that a) Greybeards are summoning and b) Nobody knows who the Dragonborn _is_ , it…well. Let's just say that it's not only the guards idly wondering if they're actually the Dragonborn and didn't know it.

I mean, yeah, you can make the argument that 'only the people who could understand the Greybeards are actually Dragonborn' but a loud rumble during the daytime is just not a good way to suss out the fakers.

So…yes. There are now a lot of mid-to-high class families preparing for a trip to the Throat of the World, and the 7000 steps.

Hmm…well, anyways.

I finished the knives and I outsourced the creation of the sheaths to a leatherworker here in the Clover. He's known for making things that are "rugged, dependable, and pants-shittingly-ugly."

His words, not mine. They cost 120 gold in total.

I figured Irileth wasn't one for pomp and circumstance, which was why I outsourced that part of the job. Anyways, he made them out of wood with his leather bindings on the outside. When I got them back, I Replaced some steel strips into the wood, and added a steel tip to the sheath itself. The point of this is so that if push came to shove and the knives are all used and lost, the sheaths themselves would be able to act as ad-hoc weapons as necessary. They can't guard worth shit, despite the steel strips, but eh…

…Anyways.

As I'm not allowed into Dragonsreach (too poor, basically) I hire a courier and send message to Irileth that her knives are ready.

About two hours later, she arrives, still in plain clothes, along with…

…Jarl Balgruuf in disguise. Bad disguise.

He's wearing what would normally be a worker's outfit, but everything about him is immaculately clean, and he gives off this impression of being well-fed and physically fit. He also, and I think this is why his disguise sucks, gives off a very strong sense of being a fatherly figure, and radiates a kind of authority that can only be attributed to a true member of nobility.

…Or else his hair reflects so much light my house will catch on fire. Either or.

 _The two of them approach our shop._

"Yo, Irileth." I greet her. "Who's your friend?"

"Company from the castle." She says slyly. "I hope you don't mind."

I laugh. "No, not at all." I then wait for them to get into normal voice range before continuing. "But it's kind of obvious he's the Jarl."

The two of them blink in surprise.

"Is it that obvious?" Balgruuf asks.

"You…don't hide too well, sir." I grin. "But hey, it's not my problem." I take the set of six knives and present it to Irileth. "Here you go. You're free to test them and see if they're to your liking."

"I'll do just that." She says and takes the knives and examines them at length. "They feel heavier than the ones you made for Aria." She observes.

"The ones for Aria were exclusively for the sake of killing dragons, and they didn't work too well." I shrug. "So I'm compromising supposed deadliness for general utility."

"I see." Irileth balances the knives on her finger. "It's not bad." She appraises. "Can you set up a target?"

"Sure."

So I do. I place the round archery target in front of a barrier of hay so the knives don't just clatter on the ground or whatever. Irileth sets herself up in front of the target and gets to work.

 _The two of us watch her throwing arm for a little bit._

"So…" Uh… "What brings you here?" I ask Balgruuf. I legit don't know why he's here.

"I heard that Aria was predisposed and I was curious." He says cheerily. "Also Proventius was being a bit of a dunderhead."

That's probably closer to the real reason, I guess. "Well, whatever works for you." To be honest, if Balgruuf isn't about to tell me why he's here then I'm not going to ask.

"These knives are decent." Irileth remarks after throwing things for a good five minutes. "You've done well."

 _She's disappointed that the knives don't track targets despite wishing REALLY HARD that she would hit the target, but it wasn't as if something like that was intentional in the first place._

She pays us the 5000 gold for the knives plus the 1500 gold development fee, as outlined in the Courier's message.

…

So…yay. Also, Balgruuf sneaked out of town for the express purpose of going on a bar crawl. He just came with Irileth to my place as a justification for "well I wasn't really sneaking out" if (when) he gets caught.

Anyhoo.

…

[That Night]

…

"So I've noticed that the town is a little bit busy." Jake says at dinnertime. "This whole dragonborn thing is blowing out of proportion, huh?"

"No kidding." Eric says, excited. "Nobody knows who the Dragonborn could be."

 _The two of us resist from rolling our eyes._

Notably, Aria doesn't correct him.

"I vote that we go on a trip." I say with a grin.

"To the 7000 steps? Hell yeah!" Erik agrees vehemently. I think Jake's been teaching him vocabulary. "I've always wanted to make the trip as a boy, but we never had the time."

"I want to go too." Mell says enthusiastically. "It sounds like fun!"

"Sure." Aria shrugs. "I'd like to see how the Greybeards pick a Dragonborn."

…I don't know if she legitimately doesn't know or if she's just playing the part.

Either way, road trip!

…

[Road Trip]

…

The good thing about being an adult with expendable income is the ability to just close up shop and travel.

Anyhoo, for this trip, we rent a wagon (Aria's pulling it with her ethereal dire wolf) and stock it with supplies. The actual procurement of stuff takes the better part of the day though, so we had to put off departure until the day after.

Which isn't really a bad thing.

"Hey, Ash?" Aria asks me on the night before. "Can I ask of you a favor?"

This is pretty rare. "What's up?"

"Can you make me a new set of innerwear?" She says, fidgeting a little.

…? Oh, oh right. Her undies were torched by the dragon. "Yeah, sure. I think I have your measurements somewhere in here." I get my small stack of paper and…nope, I don't. "Nevermind, I have to re-take them. Sorry."

"Oh, it's not a problem." She says, and I go to get my tape measure.

I get Aria's measurements—she's smaller than Mell, no surprises there—and, with a little bit of a detour to shop for materials, get to work.

She's actually smaller both in terms of bust size and hip…girth? That sounds so weird…but yeah, she's uniformly smaller than Mell (but is taller and has more muscles NOT THAT I'M IMPLYING ANYTHING). Anyhoo, I get finished with the undies before bedtime. I made two sets, because I figured she would want to like…wash them, when given the chance.

I just realized that none of us have taken a formal bath in like a month.

 _Formal bath?_

Like…for bathing (or something close to bathing) we'd leave the city and go upstream a little, and then just jump into the running water for a bit. It's not, y'know, fully 'bathing' as us two Americans consider it.

So…yeah. We're 'clean' by current standards.

…

 _Skill points?_

I gained two points from making the daggers for Irileth, one for making underwear, and none for the three weeks or so of work. Which is…odd, to say the least, now that I think on it.

Anyhoo…I do want to get into enchanting in earnest now that I have spare cash, but I'm also bitter that my equipment built specifically for the purpose of fucking up dragons didn't exactly do a whole lot of fuck-upping.

Hmm.

…But I also want to branch out into doing more things, and it looks like I'll have time to do those more things right now. To that end, I take two ranks of woodworking (better results with wood products) and another rank of fire mastery.

I mean, if we're journeying to the 7000 steps then we're VERY LIKELY going to get into fights, and if I'm on a cart all day then I can't smith, so I'm going to either tailor or start making wood weapons. I have enough confidence—kinda, sorta—to do that now. Carpentry, I mean. Tailoring's still cool and all, but I can't make weapons with it. (Yet.)

 _For reference: after we brought up the skill point gains during the 3 weeks of work, we find out that Jake earned 58 points, giving him 3 more major perks as a result._

It's seriously not fair.

 _For major perks, Jake takes: Appraising Eye (makes Identify more useful), Enchanted Presence (increase the effective of enchanted items and reduce their degrading speed), and Unstoppable (weapons skip armor somewhat)._

That Enchanted Presence thing worries me because of its description. What does it mean by 'degrading speed'?

 _For minor perks: 10 levels of counterer, 10 levels of overwhelm, 8 levels of analysis, and 30 levels of general combat mastery (which makes him better at every facet of combat by a little bit)._

At this point, _when paying attention,_ Jake is a walking deathgod. Like how my perks work, if Jake isn't devoting himself in battle, they won't act to their full effectiveness and he'll get his ass kicked. Battles are inherently dances between two people where one of them tries to shank the other when attention isn't being paid, though, so let's see how it works out.

…still. I wonder what the difference in skill points came from?

…

[Day of Departure]

…

Like I implied before, we're not the only ones making this trip. Sure, there's a civil war going on, but it's not in Whiterun territory (for the most part) and neither side is going into total slash-and-burn mode, harassing civilians and burning villages or whatever, so travel is…difficult, but not impossible.

To that end, our wagon joins a convoy of four others in our pilgrimage to the 7000 steps, but obviously we're the only one being pulled by a horse-sized wolf, and it attracts some stares.

Joining us on the trip is…the Battle-Born wagon, the Grey-Mane wagon, the Rich People Wagon A, and the Rich People Wagon B. The two unnamed wagons are from families that are affluent but not as sizable as the Battle-Borns or the Grey-Manes. We are, obviously, the poorest wagon.

"Well, if it isn't Ash." Idolaf Battle-Born says upon noticing us. "Going on a trip too, I see?"

 _The other wagons notice Aria and, arguably, only her._

Our wagon, apart from ourselves, is packed with barrels, tools, and some rawmats. "That we are." I nod.

"Grandfather said you were the one that made that sword, right?" A young boy sitting next to him asks enthusiastically. I assume he's the Battle-Born kid, but I don't remember his name.

 _Active mind doesn't know that Lars is Lars._

"Probably?" I reply. "I heard you got into a bit of trouble with that sword."

"'Trouble' is an understatement." The man sitting next to him ( _Jon_ ) laughs. "Lars stared death in the face."

I'm not overly talkative by nature, so as the other members of the cart gets pulled into the conversation, I pull myself out.

According to the Battle-Borns, the trip will take about five days, assuming fair weather and no detours. It's kind of a similar situation to the Riverwood-Whiterun path, where the linear distance isn't long, but the natural obstacles are pretty huge.

Welp!

…

[Travel Day One]

…

We leave Whiterun and follow the path heading east (then north) and more or less hug the foothills of the Throat of the World. We get slowed a few times by mudcrabs wandering too closely to the roads. They're quite delicious roasted.

In game, the path has a lot of things going on, like having a…what's it called, the stones where you can get a buff based on the sign? In game that location is practically right up to the road. Here, it's about…oh…a mile off? A mage gave us a polite bow before detouring to said stone, possibly to resurrect the conveniently placed skeletons there for some nefarious deed. It's not really my problem.

My point is there's a lot of ground to cover. The road is not terrible, since it rained a while back, but it's still just a touch sticky. Ethereal Dire Wolf has bigger paws than a horse and a pawsitive attitude so it doesn't care.

 _Ugh._

Between the four carts there is quite a bit of cross-chatter, but I'm more or less ignoring it in favor of rubbing wood.

 _This time is…_

For actual crafting duties. Before this trip started I made a bunch of small metal objects for the objective of creating a working crossbow, hence the wood preparation for that. When it's done, because I don't understand the value of minimalist design, I'm going to see if I can make the loading mechanism as painless as possible.

Regardless, I need to work on the base first.

 _To give context: Rich Wagon A is taking point, Rich Wagon B is right behind it. Battle-Born and Grey-Mane wagons are right next to each other, and our wagon is bringing up the rear. As we get our huge block of wood and some woodworking tools, Jon gives Idolaf a nudge to the ribs and nod towards our direction. On the Grey-Mane cart, Idolaf's rival Vignar notice the sudden attention and puts us on his radar as well._

 _We of course notice none of this, as we're too busy woodrubbing._

It's kind of hard to do this work on a cart with no suspension. The ground isn't perfectly flat, so things bounce everywhere. That said, by the end of the first day I've carved out the parts that I think is needed.

So…what _is_ needed for a crossbow?

On the most basic level, it's a bolt being fired by a string through a transmission of elastic energy into kinetic energy. It's strong because…of mechanisms that transfer force being made by the user and, most importantly, the mechanisms that allow for the storage of force into the string in the form of that elastic energy.

So…hmm.

 _We work until dinner break._

I don't have anything solid, but a good time to rest is a good time to rest.

We circle our wagons and the rich people let their horses rest and graze as needed. Aria just unsummons her wolf because she's amazing, and we have dinner.

Following dinner, the two of us (Jake, me) find a nice little spot of grass and we stretch.

 _Read: we move like ten meters away from our campsite._

"What are you two doing?" Mell asks curiously.

"Practice." Both of us reply at the same time while stretching. Like Mell, a few people look our way.

 _Again, we don't notice, but the Battleborns and Grey-Manes home in on the two of us with a sense of professional observation abilities that the other onlookers don't have._

Alright, I'm warmed up. "Come at me."

 _Jake immediately throws a punch at our face._

No not like that OW

 _We block with our arm but it hurts like a bitch._

The sound of the hit makes some people pay more attention. My block lets me turn my body along with it, so I can counter with my other elbow.

 _So…_

Yes, we are sparring. Like I said, I used to be a commercial black belt, and Jake did a little bit of everything with regards to physical skills.

 _Commercial?_

In the sense that we, y'know, never took the idea that we would use the martial arts we learn as an objectively life-or-death-important part of life. So like, we'd practice, and get some hours in, and have fun, but it's not as if we cared about being good at it or not.

Which might be why Jake's kicking my ass right now, come to think of it.

Jake, by virtue of being more experienced with the whole fighting business and by virtue of having like a million fighting perks, is far and away the better fighter. That said, this is sparring, so he goes easy as I get my feet underneath me again.

 _Why spar now?_

Because I learned Oakskin! I bought it with some of the money I got from Irileth and had everyone read it. It's the novice Alteration skill that increases defensive strength. I'll go into it later because I have some _seriously amazing_ ideas after playing with it.

…In retrospect, it should be noted that the fighting we're doing is NOT the normal, brawly type of fighting that Skyrim's known for. Granted, we're doing half-sparring and half-form practice (training to make sure our bodies can react properly to threats), but the sharpness of our (read: only Jake's) moves definitely attract attention at the sheer…strangeness, of it.

"Thinking of fighting without a weapon there, friends?" Jon Battle-Born asks jovially as we stop to rest.

"Not really." I huff because I am fuckin' out of cardio shape despite the three weeks of blacksmithing work. "This is just to make sure I don't die."

"You specifically, eh?" Jon laughs. "No love for your friend?"

"I'm not worried about me." Jake grins. "He needs it, badly."

"I can see." Jon chuckles. "How does this work, anyway?" He tries to mimic Jake's movement. "Does it make you a better fighter?"

"Kind of?" Jake scratches his head.

"Mind if I give it a try?" Jon says with a very menacing voice in his tone. Jake, watch yourself, yeah?

Jake has a look of confusion. "Suuure…?"

Jon suddenly lunges for Jake with a punch.

"JEEZ!" Jake responds rather verbally before reflexively stepping back and countering. He hits Jon square on the chin.

Jon is not too good at being hit squarely on the chin (that's not a thing that normal Skyrim people do) and gets real wobbly after a moment. He does hold his ground though.

"Impressive." Jon grins at Jake. "Real impressive."

"Don't jump me like that. Christ." Jake breathes. "Gave me a heart attack, dude."

"Apologies." Jon laughs…though I think he's shaky. "I was a little too curious." He goes back to his cart and sits down.

[3rd Person Camera]

Jon returns to his family cart and takes a seat.

"That man kicked your ass, eh?" Idolaf smirks.

"Without question." Jon rubs his chin. "I don't think I've ever seen fighting styles like that beyond the old books about the Akaviri."

"Really?" Lars perks up, having read those same books himself (albeit for different reasons). "That's so cool!"

"Cool or not, it means he's valuable." Idolaf muses. "Both of them are interesting characters, I see."

They watch as Jake lands a full-force kick on Ash's stomach and send him flying.

"Yes." Jon agrees. "Interesting."

Jon doesn't rise from his seat for another two hours.

…

[Day Two]

Minor tangent: we are the only cart that drinks water rather than mead (or milk for the young'uns), and that's because both Jake and I make it a point to boil the water before storing it in our barrels, with which I've lined (on the inside) with iron that has been seared by flames.

Incidentally, searing iron with flames is really easy when you can shoot fire out of your hands.

I also have some steel mugs, and the fact that we can shoot fire out of our hands means that we can always have hot tea at the ready. I don't have tea leaves, so hot water on a cold morning is the best I can get.

Tangent over.

By the time we reach the towers (Idolaf calls it the Valtheim Towers) I've made, and fitted, the basic mechanism for what I'm trying to do.

So…shape-wise, the crossbow is pretty similar to the crossbows that you'd see in every fantasy game ever. The part that slides back for the bolt (the wooden sitting) looks like a wooden L if you see it in profile, with the small part sticking out having wing-like extensions to its left and right. For now they don't do anything, and their size would definitely hamper the crossbow's effectiveness, but I'm doing it for a good reason.

As the sitting is pulled back (through the part of the L that's sticking out) it slides along the housing. It slides until it hits the end, where a piece of metal stopper, connected to the first iron spring that I've ever made, acts as the block. The stopper is angled, of course, so that the sitting would slide over it when I'm pulling it back, while presenting a large enough barrier to the sitting that it wouldn't just go off accidentally.

Incidentally, I think I've made the first spring to ever exist in Skyrim. Weird feeling, that. It's not a very good spring, but it's a spring and I'm proud of it.

 _Pressure plates exist._

The stopper is then connected to the trigger, which is on the bottom of the housing, so I can hold it like a proper crossbow/gun type weapon. Pull the trigger, and the bolt goes flying.

Of course, everything is quite crude in terms of quality. Since I'm prototyping without really knowing what I needed to make, everything is built such that they vaguely fulfill their intended purpose, but do so in a really ramshackle fashion. If I took it out for a field test I would not be surprised if it exploded and/or caught on fire.

That said!

 _At about noon, we pull the sitting back and arm the crossbow (without a bolt because we don't have any), and then fire._

The 'smack' sound of the sitting springing forward and hitting the bar of the crossbow jolts a few people to attention. It didn't break or anything, so that's good. I should pad the part that hits with some softer material to deaden the noise, though it probably would come at the cost of a little firepower.

 _The sitting sticks out slightly after firing a bolt like a little tongue, which is a feature that 'normal' crossbows don't have._

"Neat!" I grin.

"What is that?" Mell asks curiously. "You were working for two days on that thing."

"Aye." I nod. "But I can't tell you what it is. Sorry."

"Pah." She shrugs, then jumps again as I nock and loose the crossbow again. "It's loud."

"Yep, sorry about that." Do I have materials I can use for that padding? I probably do.

 _We give it a few more dry-runs, modifying the weapon as needed per each trial, and completely miss the attention being paid upon us by both Battle-Born and Grey-Mane caravans._

…

A little while after the crude prototyping gets finished, we come to the Tower. Came to the tower, since we're already here. In game, it's basically a stone bridge that connected one side of a wide and exceedingly shallow river to another while having a negative amount of OSHA compliant design patterns. In game, the site is occupied by bandits that you can kill for loot.

Here, it's…pretty much the same. The river itself is different, of course: instead of you breaking your legs in the shallow upon falling from the bridge a mile high off the ground, you disappear into the roaring river and is never seen again. Otherwise, it's still an occupational safety nightmare, except in reality you have to deal with shit like a sudden gust of wind knocking you off balance as you traverse the bridge.

Of course, the bandits are still there. We…ignore them?

To the left of the road is the tower, to the right is the jagged terrain of the mountain. There isn't much we can do in terms of actually 'avoiding' them, but…

We pass without incident. In game, a bandit asks you for money before she dies horrifically at your hands because a pixel life is worth less than 25 gold. Here, there wasn't even a guard. However, there is a campfire with a piece of meat roasting in a pot, and I'm sure Jake saw shadows moving around within the tower proper, so we're definitely not alone out here. As we pass, I definitely see some guys poke their head over the top of the tower.

"Who are those guys?" I ask as we clear this checkpoint of sorts.

"Bandits." Noble From Cart A says cheerily.

…wait what

"Bandits?" Mell repeats. "And nobody does anything?"

"Nobody wants to do anything, girlie." Idolaf laughs. "If they're cleared out by either Whiterun or Windhelm, some other group will come in and take the location, and they may not be as interested in staying neutral as this group."

…so…the lesser of like a million evils?

You know what? They didn't take my money and I didn't feel like I need to screw them over, and more to the point they were dressed pretty nicely, so I'm gonna be ok with

Oh we're going to have to kill them on the return trip aren't we

Dammit.

 _Don't just jump to conclusions like that._

Yeah, yeah…

Afternoon work was the same as last time. My martial senses are getting back/getting better, which is nice.

 _We get 1 point out of it._

It goes straight into woodworking.

…

[Day Three]

The road quality is seriously crappy on this side of the mountain. By noon, we're deep in the woods and…uh, well…I think it rained yesterday because _holy shit_ is it muddy everywhere.

I'm gonna have to walk like a fuckin' pleb.

 _Everybody walking, except for the children._

Yeah, yeah…

This does mean that I can't work on my proto-crossbow though, so…I pass my time by just casting magic. Whether if it's because of the rain or High Hrothar, the temperature on this side of the mountain is significantly lower than the Whiterun side. So I'm practicing with my flames to keep myself nice and toasty, as well as Oakflesh just because. Oakskin.

 _We gain one skill point at the end of the day._

The formula for skill points is extremely stingy, or something. I put it into enchant mastery.

I do wish I had more clothing though. We packed additional clothes and furs, but those are _too_ toasty for this kind of weather.

…

[Day Four]

Are we there yet?

Road quality is still pretty poor, but we've joined another caravan that came out of Winterhold. It's one wagon, but there are five, maybe six travelling groups. Or, rather, what feels like five or six groups…I'm grouping them based on the relative apparent wealth of their outfits, which…y'know, is not very good. Total of about fourteen people.

Anyhoo, I brought my enchanting reference book with me for a closer read. I am, by nature, a bit of a skimmer, so I end up missing a lot of key details when I read technical books. In entirely unrelated news, there is a surprising amount of foliage that happens to appear on the roads when I read for me to convenient bump into in a fashion that is in no way related to how I'm not looking at the road.

 _We don't find out, but Lars is watching us read with literal sparkles in his eyes. We are, by all markers, a commoner, and pretty poor one at that (we don't exactly parade around our actual purse size). Literacy among commonfolk (in the sense of being able to read beyond the words required for your job) is pretty low._

…

…Mmm…I think I get it? I don't think I get it? I don't really know.

Also I'm really regretting leaving the Axe of cold at home. I wanted to travel light, so all I have is my failed cold enchant dagger with me.

 _We didn't melt it?_

I don't need the materials back that much.

Anyhoo, one key thing that I think I definitely missed before: enchanted objects are inherently lossy. In game, non-weapon enchants (ring, armor, etc) are not lossy in the sense that the enchant is effectively permanent. Weapon enchants have a charge that decrease when you hit a target.

Here…well, it's more accurate to say that 'enchants affect the objects they touch', and air, while invisible, is an object, so…yeah. Weapons and armor will bleed magical energy as soon as they're made. Maybe this is why my enchanting attempt failed?

 _One of many possible reasons._

That said, armor objects will automatically draw power from the wearer and the human body, resilient as it is, will adjust and tune the armor object until the magical cost over time turns into something manageable. With absolutely no data to back up my position, I'm going to assume that each enchanted item reduces the wearer's magic recovery rate up to the point where it zeroes out, and more items will cause each item to be diluted if they go above the person's recovery rate.

…I hope I'm wrong about this, because this would mean that you'd need to be seriously magically powerful in order to use multiple enchanted objects.

Also, and I'm just kind of realizing this…

 _We're mulling this over while buried nose deep in our book._

…but the illustration of the weapons and armors in this book have some…really…interesting, designs. By which I mean that each illustration, as stylized as they may be, have a similar pattern of…lines, running through their bodies.

…huh.

…

So, our afternoon work.

I feel like I've gotten enough of a grasp on Oakskin that I can start categorizing what I know about it.

So…Oakskin is less "make skin oak" and more "hard wind". The spell effectively collects the nearby wind around the target (in this case, the self) and then 'hardens' it somehow to form a barrier against physical impact…I assume, with my out-of-context knowledge, that this is magically creating bonds between air molecules in some way. Like other spells, I can magnify its effect by pumping more magical power into the spell, which leads me to think that higher level variants of this spell have more sophisticated hardening patterns or something.

After a little experimentation, and with guiding advice from a scholarly mage from one of the travelling carts, I am now able to consolidate the spell so that it only activates around a small area, which means I can, say, focus it around my fists and guard or punch in the event of an emergency.

Incidentally, the spell's effect is the greatest when you coat it around something you can perceive, largely because, y'know, it's a lot easier to know what to protect when it isn't invisible. This means that the spell can't be used to draw random shapes in the air…or at least, the cost for doing so is just too high for it to be useful.

Hrm.

…

[Day Five]

I've learned, through listening in on the other people chatting, that the College of Winterhold is not looked down upon because of its affinity with magic. The College of Winterhold is looked down upon because it is considered to be _irresponsible_ with magic. This is…interesting, I think, though it's not immediately useful information. It's just a fun fact, I guess.

…Though I guess that's how Winterhold was always perceived in game, and I just never really picked up on it.

…

By the end of Day Five, our caravan of about a hundred people arrive at…uh…Ivarstead, the rest stop of the 7000 Steps.

…

This place is very poor. Counting roofs, the population can't be higher than 200, and almost all of the roofs show a need of repair in some way, shape, or form.

There is one Inn, and _definitely_ not enough manpower to handle the sudden influx of visitors. Not counting our 100, there is already a group of 50 or 60 people here.

I guess that means we have to camp out…good thing we arrived before sundown.

…But we don't have tent equipment.

Fuck.

"It's still summer, so we can sleep in the cart." Aria says, summoning what looks like a small ethereal owl. "Don't worry about us." She says with a sweet smile.

"I don't like sleeping in the open anymore." Mell grumbles. It rained on the night of day 4 and she got the worst of it.

In the end, we find a nice place between Ivarstead and the Barrow nearby (it's about a mile off) and make like a cover of a sort with the furs. The girls get to tuck in, while us dudes sleep wherever.

…

Come midnight, and I'm awake with Jake. There is something that sounds like talking in the air.

"You hear that?" He murmurs.

"Probably that dickhead." I murmur back, referring to the…whoever his name was, inside the barrow.

We watch the barrow for a little while and see something like a ghostly figure roaming the outside.

"Dude's got a damn good pair of lungs if we could hear him all the way out here." Jake chuckles and goes back to bed.

I so desperately want to yell something at him, but I'm afraid that Mell would kick my ass if I woke her up, so I resist.

…

[Next Day]

…

Mell's not going up the 7000 steps.

"It's too cold." She grumbles.

Which is true…in many ways. The 7000 steps is a staircase leading up a mountain that very drastically freezes on the way up. It gets cold up there with a speed that I can only attribute to magic. Moreover, there's a strong eastern wind today, and as a result the chilled air from the mountain is being blown down to Ivarstead.

 _What gave you that idea?_

It's freezing! What other reason is there?!

I raise my hand. "I'm with Mell on this one. I don't like the cold much." Although in my case I never really wanted to go up the steps in the first place (I just wanted to keep the Main Aria Plot moving). Plus I have final touches I want to add to my crossbow and I can't do that while mountaineering.

...

In the end, the party splits. Aria, Jake, and Eric will go up the mountain, while me and Mell will stay down here.

I make a campfire next to our cart and Mell bundles herself like the toastiest burrito she can be.

So while she's doing that, I'm gonna add the last bits to my crossbow.

…

The biggest issue with a standard crossbow is its reload time. In Skyrim, when you discount the differences made by experience, magic is far and away the fastest thing there is when it comes to cooldown. It's magic, then bows, and then this crossbow.

It's very sluggish, this crossbow, and even a professionally made one wouldn't change the fact that by the time I'm done reloading, I would be, like, burned to death by a million fireballs.

…So I have a plan to fix that, which is why I brought the little metal bits.

 _The party split shortly after breakfast, with Aria's team going up the 7000 steps with the rest of the pilgrims._

Their overall size is like, 50 people. Based on the things I overheard, they'll be down by sunset at the latest. I hope they don't run into something untoward, like, say, an ice troll.

Anyways!

 _We work until lunch._

I had a stew going before lunch with some venison, potatoes, and mushrooms. It's pretty nice. Warmed Mell up enough that she stopped bundling up for like ten seconds.

 _We work for two more hours afterwards._

And…done!

So, you know how I said before that the crossbow had a pair of wing-like add-ons to it? Well, they're the stars of this final bit.

I built a pair of arm-like things out of wood and the metallic bits, and these arms are designed so that they give resistance in one way only.

I've carved into the base of the crossbow to add a pair of notches and a slider-like thing, similar to the grip you see on a pump-action shotgun. This slider is connected to the crossbow's base through that pair of arms, so I can 'arm' the crossbow just by using the slider.

Once I get more acquainted with enchanting items, I'll look into reducing the friction of the slider with the crossbow base, but for now, as a prototype, it's workable.

As a bonus, I also have something like a wooden box connected to the top of the crossbow. Every time the sitting is pulled completely back, a crossbow bolt will drop from this wooden hopper and load itself into the sitting. That way I don't have to do something time consuming like pull a bolt from the quiver.

The hopper will malfunction if I try to load more than five bolts at once, though, so it still needs work.

As a final, final bonus, the cross part of the crossbow (with the string) can be folded, which means I can carry it on my back with a sack meant for javelins, rather than worry about people stealing my shit. I'm pretty sure the hinges I installed for this task seriously reduces the crossbow's durability by a lot, but, again, prototype, so I don't care.

Lessee…there's nobody really watching, but at this juncture you can't be too sure…I got the feeling that, after the first day, there was at least one person who became very interested in me and Jake, and I want to delay that as much as I can.

 _Why?_

Two words: Dark Brotherhood. If I start making seriously overpowered shit, how long do you think it'll be before somebody takes beef with it and sends assassins after me?

…Well, that's in the future, I think. For now though, I need to find a target. Like that nice little tree over there.

 _We find a small and unassuming oak tree._

Ok. Let's see here…

 _After stepping up to the tree, we turn around, mark out thirty paces or so, and put down the sack we're going to use for crossbow carrying as a line._

Alright, time to field test this thing! First off, accuracy.

Take careful aim, point it at the tree, and pull the trigger. Take care to reload slowly and methodically so nothing breaks earlier than it should…

 _Pew…pew…pew…_

…

I fired ten shots at the target.

None of them hit. Most of them flew pretty wide, actually.

…I guess this means I need more woodworking experience.

Quite a lot of the wood has chipped off during usage, too…

…well, that's fine. Now for the firepower test. Originally I expected to get a feel of the firepower after making a shot or two during the accuracy test, but…yeah.

 _We walk right up next to the tree and fires. A hundred meters away, Mell jumps at the sound of splintering wood._

…Eh? About 25% of the arrow went into the tree. I have no experience with archery so I don't know how good this is, but considering the natural durability of oak, this should be pretty good.

…Alright, speed test. I prepared fifty arrows for this one.

 _Pew pew pew pew pew (stop to reload) pew pew pew pew pew (stop to reload)…_

…

Oh god my arm hurts. I really should masturbate more with my left hand. Also, the arms snapped after twenty shots.

…that's kinda disappointing. That aside, the rest of the mechanics seem to work without a hitch. Now that most of the rough wood has flaked off, the slider works more effectively than before. I…wish I could say the same for the accuracy, but eh.

...? Also, I wish I knew how this whole experience reward thing worked.

 _We get 8 skill points._

Let's see…

The biggest problem with trying to do everything is that I can't do everything as well as if I specialized in only doing one thing. Erm…what can I take that can synergize with what I already have?

 _We take 2 ranks of replacement, 3 ranks of woodworking, and 3 ranks of weaponsMAKING mastery._

Why is weaponmaking different from weaponsmithing?

Well, at least now I'll be able to get a better result from refurbishing this crossbow. The fact that it barely lasted the better part of an hour sucks, not gonna lie.

…Well, whatever.

 _We walk back to our camp._

…?

Is it just me, or is Mell more of a burrito than before? Like, she's wrapped herself more tightly than before.

"Is everything alright?"

…I think she's saying something, but it's too muffled by the amount of material she has between her and the outside world.

"There's a ghost!" She yells when we make no sign that we heard her. "There's a ghost coming from the Barrow!"

…Well I mean, this is Tamriel, so ghosts are real, no?

I'm suddenly very glad I didn't say that out loud. "What did that ghost look like?" I would say something about her being scared of ghosts, but the first time I did the haunted mansion mission in Oblivion I got scared too, so I'm in no position to talk.

"It was scary!" She yells while still muffled. "I don't like it!"

…ok.

 _We pat where we think her head should be._

It's not like I can't relate, but in this instance where everything is bright and cheery and cold and nice, it's _really_ hard to imagine a terrifying ghost showing up.

…Also we know the ghost is a dude who's lost his mind and has drunk a lot of potions, so that has something to do with it too.

…Either way, this is something that we need…er, well, not really _need_ …something we should probably look into.

 _We're now just patting Mell on the head without really realizing it._

If we actually go looking into the barrow, then I need to be armed. I need to repair and refine the crossbow so it doesn't just explode again.

Hmm. Well, I can Replace the damage—the parts where the metal parts were fitted into the wood—and that'll go fast, but then…

 _As we think it over, we continue to use Mell—wrapped in furs—as our cat._

"Are you going to stop?" Mell says after some ten minutes.

…I think I've been petting her nonstop. "Sorry." I stop.

I miss my cat. I think I need to adopt a cat here.

Anyways, I need to get to work.

 _It takes us the better part of an hour to repair the parts that broke._

Given it took me the better part of six to make them, I daresay that's progress.

Also, the temperature is starting to climb back up, so Mell has stopped being a burrito in favor of roaming around our campsite with her small basket for plants.

One of these days I'll get her to actually teach me a little herbalism.

 _By night, everyone has returned from their trip up the 7000 steps._

The bottom of the path was infested with wolves (there were like 3 of them), and the top of the path had an Ice Troll just hanging out. They didn't kill it because the troll didn't feel like attacking.

Since the pilgrimage group was like, 50some people, the Greybeards didn't single Aria out from the crowd and crown her as the Dragonborn (so to speak). Instead, according to Jake, the group basically hung out in the Greybeards temple and prayed for like, two hours or so, before leaving.

"It was like, really calming." Jake says. "It was really nice, surprisingly."

Overall, though, the journey did not give them a whole lot of information to go on, and anything that Aria managed to learn, she's not sharing. Jake says he didn't hear any growling from the Greybeards, so…yeah.

…There was one instance in the game (when you first follow Delphine and go kill that dragon near Windhelm) where Alduin and the dragon he revived first talked to each other in draconic, before switching to normal people language to kind of exposition for the sake of the player. If we take that information as true to this world, then does that mean that dragons can just zip over Whiterun while going "Fuck all of you" and have the people understand it?

 _We take a moment to relish in the idea of a swarm of dragons zipping over somewhere like New York going "suuuck my diiiick" and the sudden deployment of fighters for the sake of preserving the innocence of children._

Also because it's a three word phrase "suck my dick" could be a legitimate shout…do dragons have a word for penis?

…Minor tangent aside, the progression of the Main Storyline is still dependent on Aria. If she's not going to tell us anything, then we're just going to continue to be in the dark.

"So, what do we do now?" Jake asks. "Are we going home?"

"We could take a look at the ghost thing that Mell saw earlier." I say with a glance towards Mell. She turns white.

…Why?

 _You just literally told her to dive into the lair of a ghost._

…oh yeah. She might not like that very much.

…No, no she doesn't.

She doesn't stop staring daggers at us even as the rest of the party enthused at the idea of a dungeon crawl.

…I should start watching what I eat.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

And the first piece of legitimately out-of-world weapon is built!

And also enchanting is complicated, because of course it's complicated.

 _If the explanation in the story didn't make any sense…_

Basically, if enchants are effective because they 'touch' an object, then it stands to reason that they're constantly bleeding off energy because they're constantly 'touching' the air around them. Just because the air is unperceivable by the naked eye doesn't mean it does not exist, after all.

So…yes, additional safeguards are needed to make sure enchants don't bleed more power than needed.

 _For the record: NPC enchanters are aware that air must be safeguarded against. They just don't know what the composition of air *is*. There are documents about how magic swords bleed power faster in enclosed spaces or if there is a fire burning nearby, but they don't go into detail as to why that is._

This is one of the edges that Ash has over the others: high school chemistry.


	9. The Ivarstead Fast Experience

_Note: Ash is unaware that Morrowind or Dawnguard has crossbows, since he has never played either of them._

 _Also: the journey up/down the mountain taking roughly a day in total is to accommodate Klimmek, who likely would not have a very high survival rate if he has to spend a night on the mountain every time he carried up a bag of food. Maybe Paarthurnax hunts for the Greybeards or something._

{ === + === }

 _We go dungeon crawling._

I think I have made a permanent enemy in Mell, given how we're diving into a ghost pit to find the very thing that she's terrified about.

…On the flip side, she's the one who chose to come along, so…

Upon entering the Barrow, we find the Ghost Guy who goes "leeeave this place" and he scares Mell to tears. There's a lever switch puzzle that we figure out quickly because it's pretty easy.

There's also a treasure chest. Guarded by a series of traps, but still a treasure chest.

"What's the group consensus on graverobbing?" I ask. Mell looks scandalized, so I guess we know her position.

"No stealing from coffins." Aria says. "Everything else is fair game."

Sounds good to me.

 _Aria works around the traps without any real problems._

Inside the chest is a small stash of gold and some gems. We (the group) only take the gems because having to gather up gold is a pain.

The Barrow, like Bleak-Falls, is bigger than the game variant, so it takes us a little bit of careful searching to find where Ghostie is staying. The lighting is also exceedingly poor, because there are no lit torches, except for the ones that we're bringing in. This makes finding ghostie easier, since he has lit candles.

 _Our party composition is…_

Aria, Jake, and Erik are the front line. Mell is trying to break my arm with how hard she's squeezing it, and I'm on light/loot duty. Comparatively speaking, my mana pool is larger than everyone else's (thank you perks) and so I can shoot Candlelights like it's going out of style.

Anyways, the three of them meet Ghostie and, after a minor scuffle, knocks him unconscious. Nonlethal damage is great.

"You can't knock a ghost unconscious." I say for Mell's sake. "So he's just a pale idiot."

"I somehow take offense to that." Jake quips, despite being neither an idiot nor (now, anyways) pale.

"I think this is the cause." Aria picks up a bottle on a nearby table. "Mell, can you take a look at this?"

"YES" Mell says, entirely way too loud because she's terrified. "I CAN."

 _We pat her on the head. She slaps our hand away._

Boo. Mell takes a moment to calm down before closely examining the potion.

 _The active mind doesn't notice, but Mell's examination of the potion requires the use of a spell._

"…There's quicksilver in this." She says after a moment. "There's a tiny amount of it, but it's there." She frowns.

…Isn't that mercury?

"Isn't that poisonous?" Jake says, echoing my thoughts with a frown. "Was he drinking that stuff?"

It's too opaque to see the contents, so Mell gives the bottle a shake. The contents slosh around. "It seems so." She sighs. "I suppose this stuff is why he thinks he's a ghost." To be fair he could have just not made enough to fill the entire bottle.

"So…" I flip through the man's diary (Ghostie's name is Wyndelius Gatharian) and…yeah, he's insane. He's been here for about a year or so, which…I wonder if his mind just skips the fact that he needs to eat and drink? Hmm.

...well, so what do we do about Wyndel? The man's a little bit insane, and I'm pretty sure psychiatric care in the Skyrim world isn't sophisticated enough to pull him back into normal life.

 _What constitutes normal life in Skyrim?_

…Killing other people, I guess? That seems to be what we do in the game 99% of the time.

 _We resolve to pull him out of the Barrow after exploring it a little more._

Which is a pretty good idea, because…

Because…why is that gate open?

 _We find the gate that would otherwise be sealed with the dragon claw. It's behind a set of flamethrower traps that has long since run out of juice._

Since the gate opens in such a way that it becomes near invisible, nobody thinks twice about it. Hell, I didn't realize it until we had passed it.

 _Under the Candlelight spell, we see Jake give us a glance._

Both of us expected to be stopped by a Dragon Claw Gate, and yet we were not. He can't bring this point up because it would be weird…well, until we see something more substantial than the lack of a gate, I'm going to keep my mouth shut too. Besides, if you think about this logically, there's no reason to believe that a Barrow will auto-reset after…what, ten in-game days?

Anyways. Cue montage!

The rest of the dungeon crawl is pretty straightforward. We go through the dungeon, see some Draugur, disable them, rinse and repeat until we have cleared the entire thing. I never noticed while playing the game, but this Barrow has a good hinting mechanism: the first Draugur room you get is one where they pop out of coffins in succession, and you have to off them before they overwhelm you through numbers. The end room is a huge selection of coffins and Draugur that do the same thing. It's good hinting.

In our case, since Aria and Jake are walking death gods, the Draugur don't really get to stand up before their heads go flying.

I got some experience out of my crossbow, despite its horrid accuracy, and in total we made out with a bag of gems, some scrolls, and a sword enchanted with fire…and a crossbow with broken arms because my god is it fragile.

We didn't take anything else, largely because there was nothing else of notable value to take—anything I take I will have to physically haul back to Whiterun and I'm not short enough on money to do that.

 _Aria also learns Kyne's Peace._

Since she didn't explain anything when we asked about the Dragon Dictionary, I won't bother asking if she actually learned anything or not.

Ultimately, we brought both Wyndel and his journal out of the Barrow to the inn at Ivarstead, which doesn't really 'give' us the Sapphire claw, but confirms (for me at least) the claw's existence and safety. Also the innkeeper confirms that the claw was used some "five years ago", so the door being open is not a recent occurrence. I'm not sure how I feel about this, especially the fact that Wyndel should have, by all measures, noticed that open door at the time of his first entrance.

 _Since we only skimmed the journal for dates we didn't notice, but instead of Wyndel not finding the way deeper into the dungeon, he bemoans the fact that his way is constantly barred by the Draugur and goes insane trying to find a way around them, devising the potion as a kind of stealth mechanism rather than a villager-scaring tactic._

I guess I really should have realized that the world existed before Skyrim's opening sequence.

 _So what next?_

Hm…

Well, we did what we came here to do, so let's just go home.

 _Just like that?_

Just like that.

…

Our return trip, also five days, was without incident. Kinda, sorta. We didn't even get stopped at the Anti-OSHA tower.

By day three it started raining on-and-off during the day and it's just _miserable._

…By day four, Mell caught a cold.

"Are we gonna be ok?" Jake says when Mell begins coughing. "I mean, it's _us_." He says.

"We haven't gotten sick since we got here." I note. "So it's probably fair to say that our immunity profiles are similar enough to not be a factor." It's not unusual to get sick from something that you were never exposed to, so the fact that we're ok means we're, y'know, not gonna die immediately. I can imagine a future scenario where the two of us are heroes in response to some kind of a plague outbreak.

 _Mell takes some kind of tonic she had with her and is ok by the end of the day._

She's really too cute to be a master alchemist, but at this point I believe she is one.

By day five, we're home.

…Why is Whiterun smoking?

 _After doing a little information gathering from farm hands and patrolling guards…_

A dragon buzzed the place two days before we got here. It didn't stay for a long-term fight, mind you. It just shot a few fires into the city and then left. It was probably just bored.

…but that does mean everyone is on edge and is constantly watching the sky.

Anyhoo…I'm home! Fuck yeah!

…I'm not home. Fuck.

"Well." Jake breathes as he sees what we're dealing with. "This sucks."

I nod. "Aye."

All of us stare at the burned down remains of my house. It was already a fire hazard to begin with, so I guess a good hit from the dragon finished it off. I mean, yeah, it's not *just* my house, like there was a row of houses that were hit (plus others that burned down because of the resulting fires), but still.

So I need a new place to live. Boo.

 _What of our materials?_

The books? I kept them in a metal lockbox wrapped in frostbite, so they're ok. I will never badmouth the ability to make things colder ever again. The enchanting table itself is fine, and the dragonbone pile is also fine.

…Which makes me think that the house burned down due to secondary fires rather than the dragon itself, but that's a pointless distinction to make.

…Either way, I need a new place to live. This sucks.

 _And everyone else?_

Aria has a bed in Dragonsreach. Erik and Jake have guild jobs (of a sort) so they can bed there. Mell's house/shop has been rebuilt, so she's going home. Despite her best efforts Jake did not deign to go with her. Mell, _very_ reluctantly, accepts to have me under her roof for the time being.

 _It ended up being two days._

Which wasn't very long, all things considered. Ultimately I found a new place worth 1000 gold, along with the meat stall that used to be next door. The owner of that stall—a kind old High Elf lady—said that I was good for business…she's also very dependable, which is why I'm perfectly ok with this.

Either way, my new house is on the northeastern side of the Clover. It's about three rows away from the main causeway (the ones that you use in-game) and is sheltered against one of the stone walls that divide the temple district from us poor folk.

Bonus points: there's a surprising amount of land that came with the house, so I have the room to expand if I felt like it. The house that came with the land is not much bigger by floor size, but is more solidly built and looks like it could actually take a hit. There's also a proper bed!

...It's like if Breezehome's insides were as large as the outside, come to think of it. It looks like it too. Breezehome itself is 5000 gold, so…y'know, fuck that noise™.

Anyhoo, I paid 500 gold to have a shiny new forge and smelter built, and another 200 for a dedicated wing for my enchanter's table, and another 100 for a small offshoot for my enchanting material (books and the like).

The fact that I have a good relationship with some of the bigger names in the Clover meant I could muster up some folks and have the whole thing built in two days.

I also annexed the next door—a decrepit, empty house—and had them tear it down to build a new house/shop for Eli, to the tune of 400 gold. It was at this point that I realized that I have way too much gold for a poor person.

It's a weird feeling, to have earned all this gold without having to kill things.

 _We just help other people kill things._

Aye. Housing aside I also had to pay around 300 gold for other furniture, including actual bedframes.

After a week, I had my house! And then I spent the rest of my expendable income (2000 gold) on iron and steel. And cloths. And wood. And Fire salts. And…

[Week two]

Work work. Putting up signs for my new shop as well as getting display racks for the equipment that I'm building. Since I'm now closer to the main street, there is a greater amount of wanderer foot traffic, and a larger amount of those wanderers are mercenaries and guildfolk looking for new weapons.

So I have to spend more on making things look pretty, which…is nice, because things that look pretty look professional, so long as it's not gaudy.

…Which gives me work for the Whiterun Guard.

So one of the things I can't do as a poor smith in the Clover is access to Government Contracts (of a sort), like the one that Idolaf gave to Adrianne for a large shipment of weapons. Clover smiths are naturally barred from these contracts to ensure that the end product shipped out is of a working quality. (Nevermind that some of the non-Clover smiths are seriously bad at what they do).

Non-Clover smiths are almost always swamped with work as a result, and those that don't have contracts (or don't want them) can't keep up with demand. Which means that the Guard, the least important branch of the Whiterun military (in terms of being supplied) gets the shaft on maintenance…to the point where they have to do maintenance and upgrades on their own time.

The Whiterun Military, by the way, is comprised of three branches: armored troops, light troops, and cavalry forces. There are more nuanced divisions within the branches but the general organization is as given.

…Anyways, I've been making equipment by being as professional about it as I can manage, and I scored 13 points out of it (and 1 major perk). To prepare for a thing that I want to do come next week, I take 3 ranks of Fire mastery, 5 ranks of Ice mastery, and 5 ranks of Shock mastery.

For the major perk, I take Elemental Melding.

 _Our work with the Guards makes them like us more, because our works are affordable and dependable, and we "give a good name to Whiterun Steel."_

[Week three]

I wanted to start experimenting with dual-casting of two different spells. Elemental Melding (which only became available after 5 ranks of masteries) supposedly reduce the penalties from trying to dual-cast two different elements of magics.

Let's pretend that I totally knew Elemental Melding was going to be available after taking the 5 ranks of masteries, yeah?

Anyways…yeah.

After a day of trials, I have learned that dual-casting is _fucking hard._ Trying to dual-cast two spells of different elements? Harder. Elemental Melding makes it easier, but…it's still tough to the point where I'm making zero progress. Think of it like…metronomes! Yeah, metronomes. When dual-casting, you are effectively trying to make two metronomes (with the same bpm) click at the same time. When doing so with different elements, those metronomes are operating at different speeds, and you don't get to choose how fast it's going. Trying to match them up is a nightmare and a half.

...But there is still utility to using the spells by themselves without dual-casting. You still have to pay attention to the two "metronomes at different beats" in order to cast two spells of differing types, but you don't have to make them match each other, which makes things easier. For example, Frostbite and Flames (Frostfire, I'm calling it) is very useful for creating hot water at will.

 _It doesn't create water, mind: Frostbite collects ambient moisture to make ice which gets melted down by Flames._

This does mean that I get to wash my hands with hot water without using precious firewood to boil said water.

 _Note: the ability to use frostbite and flames to make hot water isn't new._

Yeah. Everyone who knows both Frostbite and Flames knows how to do it, and Frostbite is a common enough spell despite not being innate like Flames. The reasons why most people don't do it is because a) the mana cost for doing it is pretty prohibitive, and b) when you use firewood to heat water you can go do something else. I have oodles of mana and I can pump it out like nobody's business, plus it's good training for how to use magic more effectively, which is why I do it. Also I don't wanna pay for firewood for my washing.

…Speaking of washing. I never really noticed it before, but seeing Mell sick gave me…well, not really a new outlook or anything, but it's made me a little more aware of local health.

…People are…healthy-ish? It's not like we're passing by people who are constantly sniveling or coughing or whatever, but I do get the sense that the local health is not as high as it could be, even though everyone and their mother has access to Healing. I wonder why?

 _This question bothers us so much that we ended up paying a visit to the temple of Kynareth._

By the way. Rockjoint? Not a real disease.

 _Erm._

The things you can catch from wild animals are more like curses than diseases, because they fade after a good night's rest, and can be dispelled with a little effort.

So!

 _We go inside the temple._

On entrance, the temple has three rooms of note, with not a door in sight.

The main center room is large and spacious, with a carpet for worshipping, judging by the people kneeling on said carpet. At the farthest end of the room is the altar, with candles and the statue and everything.

To our left is a separated off room with shelves and tables, which I assume makes it a study of some kind.

 _It's basically the receiving room for the temple clerics when they're dealing with clerical business. Hidden from our line of sight is a door that leads downstairs into a living quarters for the clerics._

To our right is a room of beds, and by the sounds of the groaning I assume that's a sick bay of some kind.

"Welcome to the temple of Kynareth, child." A cleric says softly as we look around. "I am Head Priestess Danica Pure-Spring. How may I assist you today?"

Apart from her there are maybe…ten more clerics? "I just have some idle questions." I bow. "Apologies for the disturbance." Ten clerics and a handful of assistants of some kind.

 _She stares at us._

"In exchange for your questions, perhaps you should give me some assistance." She says after a second. "You have some skill in the healing arts, do you not?"

…How can she tell? "I know Healing Hands." I shrug. "I don't know if that counts."

She smiles in a rather friendly way. "It counts." She beckons for us to follow her into the oh wow this place is stuffed.

 _In the room of the Sick and Dying, there are thirty beds._

Each bed has a Wounded Person of some…description. No upper class-looking people, to no surprise. There is barely enough walking space between the beds, and eight clerics (not counting Danica) are moving around each bed, applying Healing Hands as needed. It looks and sounds like they're applying healing to the people who are groaning the loudest.

"I will answer any question you have if you give us help for the next hour." Danica says with a smile…that reflects her tiredness.

 _She looks drained._

No kidding. Let's get to work.

 _We approach the closest Wounded Farmer._

Looks like a bite wound…oh my lord it has festered. MAGGOTS. WHY ARE THERE MAGGOTS HERE?!

"He has been here for a few days." Danica says.

WELL HERE'S YOUR FUCKING PROBLEM OH MY GOD

 _We take out a set of gloves used for the forge and heat it with Flames._

I also find a nearby pan and fill it with Frostflame water. I also find the cleanest rag I have.

"Warning, there may be screaming." I say curtly and begin washing the wound on the farmer's body.

 _There is…not necessarily screaming, but certainly loud groans of discomfort from the Farmer. Some of the other Wounded tries to shift away from us, but the other members of the temple stop them._

In retrospect this would be less troublesome if it wasn't being done in the middle of literally everybody.

 _We clean up most of the maggots after twenty minutes._

I'm sure this isn't because the clerics know nothing about cleaning wounds, but for fuck's sake guys.

 _We begin pouring healing energy into the man's body._

Healing is based on intention, so…hm. So let's focus that intention into bolstering the man's immune system and his natural recovery rate.

 _As we are unable to perceive either of these things, the advantage granted by the targeted healing is, like, 3%._

Whatever it is it's better than nothing. "Do you have clean bandages?" I ask Danica.

"We have bandages." She points me to a roll of cloth that…is clean, but is likely not specifically cleaned.

 _We toss it into our bucket of hot water and wash it as thoroughly as we can for a minute or so._

I am not a doctor, nurse, EMT, or any kind of medical staff. I do, however, understand the importance of sanitation and have a basic understanding of human biology.

 _After cleaning the bandages, we wring out the water in them and then firmly bind the man's wounds._

I do get some other cleric (I think his name's Jenson or something) to help lift the man's midriff so I can get the bandages bind nice and tight. Working the forge gave me nice and strong arms, not gonna lie.

"In the future please do not leave open wounds untreated." I say with no small amounts of annoyance in my voice. "Clean and bind and save the treatment for later if you must, but for fuck's sake don't leave it just aired out like that."

Danica is…measured, in her response. "I see." I feel bad, because I'm sure their actions are because they just don't have the time or resources, but…

 _We help out for the better part of two hours, until each and every person's wounds have been properly cleaned and bandaged._

The first person's wounds were the worst, as it turned out, so the rest took a lot less time.

"Thank you very much." Danica says after the session. "Your…language…aside, I appreciate the assistance."

"Sure." I say. I may have been…coarse, and have gotten progressively coarser, as the day progressed. "You guys are just swamped with healing work, huh?"

Danica nods sadly. "Aye, the banditry that resulted from this war has given us an ample share of wounded, and Skyrim's wildlife is as lively as ever." She blinks as one of the least wounded guys get up from his table. "You're good." She observes. "His wounds may be light, but I didn't think he'd get up this early."

Yeah, in a room of wounded people cross infecting each other? I'm surprised none of them have died yet. "In exchange for my services, tell me everything you're willing to share about Restoration."

…

[Lesson]

…

Hmm…

So as I've tested before, Healing depends on targeting. The better you know your target, the better the healing rate. Danica, as the game's healer trainer (one of them), is _really good_ at targeting. She has a very thorough understanding of the insides of the human body in a way that makes me think she used to be very good at cutting people in the past, or else has been around bodies that have been cut up (in a very detailed fashion) in the past.

Her apprentices/helpers/trainees/supporters…nnnot so much. From a healing perspective though, everyone within the church can be considered as fairly skilled, and Danica says that the church's requirements for Restoration is that they are 'at least a Journeyman'. In Oblivion (maybe earlier games too?) being a Journeyman meant you had a skill level of 50+ out of 100. I'm not sure what it means in a practical, non-game fashion.

Within the bounds of this temple, though, the biggest issue they have is, arguably, a lack of recognition of the germ theory of disease. Other than that they're pretty good at their jobs.

 _Thus, we spent the rest of the day getting the Temple to care about cleaning up the sick bay._

It's not like they don't wipe down the area or whatever, but it's done for the sake of appearances rather than hygiene. It still achieves the same result of getting infecting agents out of the area, but uh…yeah. Could use some work. To that end, I insist that they get hot water (one trainee uses frostbite or just get it from a well while the other boils it with flames).

It really shows the power of a perk when I can do it pretty much forever.

…I have not checked my skill chart since two months ago. SO LET'S DO THAT

 _We do._

It's still as unreadable as ever. However, for hexagons that are associated with things like Frostbite and Flame, I now have some numbers attached to the endpoints of the hexagons.

 _While watching the hexagon, we case Flames._

It drains the shit outta me, so I assume the cost spikes up if I don't pay attention. Either way, I watch as the hexagon expands ever so slightly until one point hits a corner. It then retracts aaalll the way back to the center, and the number next to the corner increases.

By that logic, I auto-legendary skills that have maxed out? Or something? It doesn't feel like I'm doing less damage or whatever…

 _We do this mulling while on our way home._

It's nice to finally learn a few things. I earned 10 points today. All of them go into Replacement, because I've been using that more and more with my work.

…

For the rest of the week, if I have free time I go to the temple and help out. The temple constantly gets people who get injured in various ways, and provide free healthcare service.

It helps confirm one of my suspicions, and definitely tell me that, yes, a better understanding of the systems we're working with helps efficiency.

So…for example. A human body is a giant bag of cells. These cells do things.

 _A+ explanation._

Foreign elements in the body like bacteria and viruses are…uh, foreign. If you don't know they exist, they will also benefit from healing spells and get stronger as a result. This is, I believe, why healing a diseased person will have variable results—boosted immune system versus boosted bacteria, winner's a tossup.

When you are aware of bacteria/viruses, then they get a smaller benefit or else no benefit at all. Obviously, this is very much so conjecture because I can't see the damned things, and I'm…hesitant to say that I'm doing a _good_ thing (or if the thing I'm doing is good), but selectively targeting a person's immunity system seems to make them recover faster. I don't know how good this is going to be for larger wounds (or if this will trigger autoimmunity problems) but for the time being…people with minor pains are coming and leaving the temple fully healed in about two hours, so that's good.

 _By the end of the next week the temple clerics' reputations skyrocket because of their exemplary performance._

[Week 4]

I invented the shower! And the automated crossbow.

 _Uh…_

So the shower is a pretty simple thing. I have a bucket with a small hole in it, hang it up high, fill it with water, and then uncork the whole deal. It's pretty great, especially when frostflame water is involved. Wish I had some shampoo or whatever, but I don't know how to make it, and I don't know how to get any, so that's…y'know, a thing.

The automated crossbow, on the other hand…well, first off, some dude from Morrowind said they had crossbows (so fuck him) and then some other guy said that there's some anti-vampire guild with crossbows (fuck them too).

…I may be a little bit bitter about having my crossbow pre-empted, which is why I worked out an upgrade. Mine is still better because it takes conventional arrows as ammo and reloads like a fucking shotgun.

Anyways, I've been incrementally doing upgrades on the protobow, to the point where it's finally too damaged to operate. Repairs and upgrades, upgrades and repairs, until it's finally had enough. But I learned a lot (got no perks out of it) and I've built the successor.

So, the new crossbow is a bulkier in every way…with no appreciable increase in durability. While the structure is wood, I had to reinforce the components with metal sheets and Replace key parts with metal bars just to make sure it doesn't explode during use. The reason being? Most of the crossbow…the arbalest, is now empty.

 _And yet it's still heavier._

Aye. So it's now over a meter long, clocks in at 40 pounds, and is fucking impossible to aim without a kick stand. And it could be heavier, too, were it not for replacement shenanigans. The reason why it's so heavy is because of the internal piston.

I've…taken inspiration from a car's internal piston to build one that works with air and a petty soul gem rigged for a simple energy discharge. I can't get it to do a proper enchantment so this will have to do, really. A simple energy discharge, as dictated in the book of basic enchanting, is pretty much the first step in enchanting. Get the energy out of the soulstone, and then do the other 99 steps necessary to actually, y'know, cause an enchant.

But anyway, the arbalest is visually just a huge crossbow with a shotgun pump and arms. This is used for manual reloading in the event that the autoloader fails to work (and if the pump fails I can reload it like standard crossbow. Yay redundancy). The piston is built into the hollowed out square sitting, and works as thus: first, it is loaded with a hand crank that allows me to pressurize the core. Upon depressing the trigger and with a bolt of my magical power, the soulstone is 'active' and pushes the piston downwards. Similar to a car, the downward motion then translates back into an upward motion, and compresses the air back to the soulstone, where it activates independently of my magical power due to the ambient power that is released into the air by the soulstone. This action also drives the slider (where the arrow is) and the reloading arms, letting the whole thing reload without my input.

The firing rate is about one shot per every two seconds, and the accuracy clocks in at a respectable 90%. Since I have access to a forge, I've also built a more reliable ammo hopper, and it can funnel ammunition into the crossbow at an unlimited pace…or until I run out of arrows to shoot.

…Theoretically, anyway. I haven't really been keen on field testing it. I mean, it didn't explode horribly, so I think that's a win?

 _We got 20 points from the project._

Also, fun fact: after reviewing my skill window, I've deduced with my incredible powers of "having eyeballs" that my arbalest (and the crossbow) did not cause any form of skill gain while used. I don't know why.

 _We would never find out, but the reason why there wasn't an associated skill gain was because we built the protobow as a 'Experimental Weapon' and the arbalest as a 'Rapid-Fire Weapon' respectively, and both weapons fall under the broad category of Irregular weapons, which also includes things like ladles and spoons n'shit. Irregular weapons as a skill category just constantly increase regardless of what we do, and thus we never notice._

I've done the whole 'look at skill window while using weapon' thing to find out exactly what skill increased or changed, but it's a) next to impossible to follow the hex charts of like 100 skills, and b) I'm scared I'll hit somebody.

The skill window's UI elements actually get smaller the more skills you get, and everything fits on one page. It is _hell_ trying to find anything out with that UI.

…Well, I did get 20 perk points out of it, which also pushed me up to the next major perk.

…Actually, it gave me two major points. Training with Danica apparently gave me some more traits, but because I don't write down what minor perks I have, I'm not quite sure what I got new. Again, the UI is disgusting.

Either way though.

For my major perks, I take 'Magicka Channeling' and 'Boosted Magicka Channeling', which means my mana cap is tripled ( _applied last as a modifier, so mana boosting gear effect is also tripled_ ) AND my recovery rate scales with my cap…while moving at over triple speed.

For my minor perks, I take five ranks each in Fire/Shock/Ice/Heal masteries. Given that I have but don't remember taking heal mastery I assume that came from Danica. Or maybe my memory is just bad.

It's been a month.

 _For reference: Jake earned 80 points over the same timeframe…which also gives him 4 major perks._

It's not fair. He comes around every so often to chat.

He took SEVENTY ranks of Combat Mastery and 10 ranks of Overwhelm. For his majors, he takes Armor Master (Great/Greater/Greatest) and Boosted Enchanted Presence. So any armor on his body is basically eight times as effective, and enchanted equipment burn out at quarter speed.

He also gained two titles…er, 'Finishing boosts', as the UI calls it. 'War God', from having the Great/Greater/Greatest Armor and Weapon master major perks, and 'Veteran', from having 100 ranks in Combat Mastery. War God boosts his crit by 25% and makes him less vulnerable to being critted (25%), while Veteran gives him a bonus to exp earned in combat (25%).

Did I mention how unfair this is? Because this is totally unfair. There is no hint as to what gave him these finishing boosts, but I imagine having 100s in a perk will get one.

…I wonder what the finish for Replace might be?

 _We're never going to see one of these bonuses are we._

Doubt it. I'm too scattershot with my perks…and to be honest, I like it this way. Let Jake be amazing by sheer virtue of playing the game, and let me be amazing because I keep modding in new things.

…

[After the Month of Leisure]

…?

 _On one of our deliveries to the guard house at the gates of Whiterun, we come across a band of Redguards._

They have curved swords. Curved. Swords. Incidentally, I'm delivering swords that I've been commissioned to make.

…I should start seriously making metal armor.

 _As we deliver the swords…_

As I finish my delivery, I listen in to them demanding to be let in to search for a woman. Three guesses as to who that might be.

…Though it seems like the story is going a little differently than the game, because the Redguards *are* allowed into the city.

…Huh.

…Well, I have nothing better to do at the moment.

 _We begin tailing the Redguards through the street as they get closer to the Bannered Mare._

Since the roads have a fair amount of people, tailing them without being detected isn't too difficult. They hit the Bannered Mare around five minutes later. To ensure that I have a good view on what's going to happen, I go in before they do by a few steps.

The four Redguards enter the Bannered Mare, and predictably everyone kind of stops to look at them, because, though they're pretty stand-out. They're armed, but since the Mare regularly hosts swords-for-hire taking a break, nobody blinks twice at their Curved Swords.

"Saadia!" The inn's owner calls out. "Newcomers!"

There are a total of twenty people in the inn not counting the newcomers (Redguards, me) and Saadia is in the back room, likely working the kitchen in some way…do they not have a chef here? I don't think I've ever seen the matron do anything but be reception.

Saadia steps out of the kitchen with a harried "coming, coming" before locking eyes with the Redguards. She freezes on the spot.

"We've finally found you, Iman!" The Redguard lead calls out. He's not Kematu, I don't think. "You won't escape justice this time!"

"What are you talking about?" Saadia replies curtly. "Do you assault every Redguard woman you see with unhinged threats and assume they're someone else?" She gets a few laughs and cheers in her direction.

The current mood in the inn is: tense.

"Children." The innkeeper claps. "No fighting, unless you're doing it with your bare fists."

"My apologies." The Redguard leader says formally…and surprisingly sincerely. "But that woman over there is an ex-noble of Hammerfell, and had, before her…'timely', escape, pledged support to the Aldmeri Dominion."

...That's quite smart, doubly so since Saadia just visibly flinched.

"Don't be daft." Saadia snaps. "Or is this how you approach women?"

By name-dropping the Aldmeri, especially in a place where it's not liked, they've just shot Saadia's hiding place full of holes.

"I do not treatise with traitors." The leader says coldly. "With your permission, matron, we would like to bring her to justice."

…So the big problem right now is that the Redguards are totally not hiding in a cave with bandits and thus are not sketchy.

"How do I know the lot of you aren't just slavers in disguise?" the innkeeper sighs. "Do you have any proof?"

Pause.

"Sadly, we do not." The leader bows. "It is our word against hers, unfortunately."

"Then I can't let you just take away one of my best workers." The innkeeper shoos them with her hand. "You're ruining the mood."

"I understand." The leader nods and backs respectfully out of the room.

…double hmm.

"Ash!" I hear a friendly voice. Jon Battle-Born waves at us and comes to sit at our table.

 _We order some food, because we are hungry and have yet to eat._

"Jon!" Again, although I've been living alone, I haven't been alone-alone. As in, people do come and visit on a frequent basis. "How's it going?"

"A lot more interesting after that little show." Jon grins. "What do you think that was about?"

I…have my guesses. "No clue." I shrug. "Has Saadia been here long?"

Jon nods. "Long enough to be a fixture in the tavern." He narrows his eyes. "The Dominion, eh…?"

More hmm. "Think they're telling the truth?" The game doesn't really take sides either way, though, again, the Warrors were the one hiding in a cave with bandits.

"I don't know. They were too clean to be just mercenaries." Jon muses. "And I heard Saadia lives a little too well for her status as a mere servant."

…That's…true, in a way. The cleanliness part, I mean. I have no idea how Saadia lives her life and hoo boy do I not give a fuck.

 _We both watch Saadia work._

The patrons of the shop are…if not necessarily hostile, then at least a lot more cautious around her. She understands the reason, I think, and keeps distance as necessary.

Hrm.

 _We watch Saadia for a little longer until we get our food._

We then eat and get out. Ultimately this isn't something I care enough about.

 _We leave the Bannered Mare, then immediately hear screaming._

Screaming, followed by a dragon's roar.

Looking up, there is…yep.

 _A dragon coasts through the sky._

Well, let's go home really fast and grab my trusty autobalest. Good thing I live close, and the people are well drilled in the art of dragon evacuations.

 _We make it home as the dragon readies itself for another diving attack on the city._

Alright, I got my stuff.

 _We set up our autobalest in the middle of the rapidly deserted street and aim it at the dragon._

Whoa it's breathing fire. Not at us, but its breathing fire. Given it's flying angle I don't think it's trying to stay for a scrap. Anyhoo…

Pew pew pew pew pew!

 _As we judge that it is close enough for us to hit, we pull the trigger and the arrows starts firing._

I guess it's less pew pew and more Bap. Bap bap bap bap bap…the sound of the metal sitting hitting the wooden crossbar. This thing also kicks like crazy. If it were not for the tripod stand I think I'd have a few broken ribs.

 _Our shots disappear into the sky._

…The dragon shows no indication that it has been hit in any way, and after five shots the autobalest string snapped due to the stress, so…yay? The dragon leaves as quickly as it showed up, so I guess it was just bored.

I should note that I'm not the only one who tried to intercept it. The guards and some mages have also tried to shoot down the dragon, so for a few seconds there were a lot of magic and physical missiles flying at the dragon. Anti-aircraft fire is kinda hard when the target is stubbornly difficult to shoot down, though, so as far as we can tell the Dragon was unscathed through the entire ordeal.

…and now I'm daydreaming of a timeline where you could possibly take something like an A-10 through a world war 2 battlefield.

[Damage Assessment]

The Dragon's attack torched a line into the town, and a few houses are on fire. So the danger is just secondary blazes that come from those fires burning out of control.

 _We spend the rest of the day helping out the guard with frostbite and healing hands._

In conjunction with Danica's healer corps, I should mention. After a fashion I switched entirely to healing and treating the burn victims that the guards bring in.

 _Out of curiosity, why were we helping?_

As I said earlier, the guard is one of my markets, and being a good citizen really helps if, say, I need to stab someone in the dark of night. Not that I'm ever _going_ to, but…y'know. Just in case.

Either way, the healing duties take the rest of the day.

[Next Day]

 _We wake up, with very loud zombie groans, to a rapid, if faint, knocking at our door._

For the love of…what. Ugh.

I've apparently slept in a little because it's…what, midday? It's awfully bright outside. Did I oversleep? I probably overslept.

I hope this isn't someone giving me shit over the cross…er, the autobalest.

 _We crawl out of bed, throw on our forge pants, and address the issue of the rapid knocking._

"Mornin'." Jake says with a cheery grin. "Got a minute?"

"Fucking hell, man." I yawn. "Yeah, I guess. What's up?"

…

So there's a new mission of a sort. Jake's guild job got pulled into a mission with the Whiterun patrols. They're going to clear out a bandit camp northwest of the city. Expected resistance is…er…bandits, numbering at roughly a hundred. This is the camp that holds both the…Iron To Silver To Gold spellbook and Mammoth Tusks, for that one sidequest.

…But why a hundred bandits?

"Apparently the camp's a site for organized raids on Giants n'shit." Jake shrugs. "They're illegally trading Mammoth components and the Giants aren't happy."

Which means Whiterun needs to jump in? I guess I understand why they're not all that interested in giant anger.

Either way, Jake's rallying troops because apparently we find this kind of stuff fun. Our party will be Jake, Erik, Mell, and me. Aria left some time earlier for some unstated reason.

When you're on the outside looking in, the Dragonborn feels literally insane, no?

Anyhoo, Jake's the vanguard, Erik's the wingman, Mell's the healer, and I'm…the gadget mage, archer, and healer. I should consider clearly defining my role or something.

I have three days to prepare, so let's get to preparations.

I have to make, for Jake and Erik: A Great Sword, Two Short Swords, a Fighting Axe (one-handed axe), Two Suits of Armor, A Shield, and a partridge in a pear tree. Mell has her own stuff, so that's nice, at least.

And I also need to make stuff for myself. In three days.

"Fuck you, Jake" is my immediate reaction.

His reaction to my reaction is to laugh and fork over 8000 gold, so we're good.

…

[Their Equipment, three days later]

…

I closed my shop for this.

Let's see…

Jake's primary weapon, his two-hander, is a heavy piece of work. At fifteen pounds, it is _way_ the fuck heavier than a sword should be. He's badass, so he can handle it. Overall, the sword has no special properties. It's just big, sturdy, deadly, hefty, and well built. I've embedded it with a sapphire, with the wish that it will protect Jake from being turned into a pincushion. Here's hoping that it works, yeah?

The short swords are, I imagine, going to be used for combat when the fight invariably goes underground into the dirt tunnels. In that respect, these swords are shorter than normal short swords, have a singular cutting edge with a widened back (like a cleaver). Otherwise, they have a barbed saber hilt and embedded rubies, on which I have wished that they "fuck up armor like nobody's business." The saber hilt means that there exists curved piece of metal that connects the bottom of the hilt to the guard, which provides additional defense to the hands. The barbs mean you can punch with them, just in case if that was a necessity.

 _So…a machete plus a saber plus spiked brass knuckles._

More or less.

Erik's one-hander axe is also not really special. It's weighted a little towards the head compared to a standard axe, giving it a little more power at the cost of speed. It is embedded with a topaz and the wish that Erik doesn't bleed to death.

I have no guarantee that the Wished Gems will do anything, but, y'know, better to do it than don't. I still don't know how to properly enchant an item, which…sucks.

Anyways, armors.

Jake's armor is extremely forward facing, with most of the steel focused around ensuring that his target doesn't fuck him up too much as he runs towards said target. Erik's is more stable, offering equalized protection in a 360 degree radius.

 _We're judging their protectiveness by the thickness of the armor plates._

Jake's plates, in particular, are tougher and thicker than normal, because I've overlaid several layers of steel with Replace.

…back up a second.

Jake's armor is fur, leather, plate, with the leftmost layer being closer to his body. Erik is the same, though his fur and leather layer is mixed. Ok.

Jake's leather layers has iron bands Replaced into it for durability, and his fur layer has cotton Replaced into it for better cushioning against bludgeon strikes.

Erik's plate and soft layers has the same treatment but with less effort put in. Both armor plate sections are as curved as I could make it with my skill level to give them further resilience against slashing and off-center piercing attacks. My armors aren't very flashy, not that I've made many suits, but the quality of armor as seen in the game is only possible because the devs only need to make one texture to apply to a billion suits of steel, so eh.

The shield is wooden with a band of steel around it. It has bands of Iron replaced into the wood to give it better arrow resilience, but is otherwise quite normal.

As for me…I've purchased a suit of leather armor (of rather shoddy quality), a leather shield, and some combat mage book holders. I also bought a very strong belt for my autobalest, two quivers of arrows, and a dagger from Adrianne.

 _How strange that we're not arming ourselves._

To be honest, I just ran out of time. I'm going into the fight with the spells Candlelight, Oakflesh, Shock, and Healing Hands…and my autobalest with two hundred rounds of ammunition. This'll be fun.

[The meetup]

I find Jake, Erik, and Mell rallied with the rest of the assault force meeting up at the stables outside Whiterun.

"Well, if it isn't Ash!" Erik says like he wasn't being outfitted for armor yesterday. "Long time no see!"

"Same to you, Erik." I grin, because it's nice to see him so happy with his gear. He looks like a professional warrior now. A poor professional warrior, but a pro nonetheless.

"What's that thing on your back?" Mell asks, noting the autobalest jutting out over the back of my head by a full…head. "Is that a weapon?"

"My long range weapon." I nod and give it a pat. "I'll be providing fire support with this thing whenever I'm not using magic." I'm experienced enough with Shock at this point to cast it as a ranged bolt, though the power is kinda lacking. "What are you going to do?"

"Back line support." Mell pats her pouch of potions. "I'll be in the back to make sure our casualties are reduced." She then gives me a…approving? Look. "I heard about your work in the Kynareth Temple. I'm impressed, Ash. You didn't strike me as the type that could utilize something as sophisticated as Restoration."

…Well, fuck you, too? I can't tell if she's being sincere or not. "I do what I can." I say, settling for a…piddly, answer.

I then feel a hand on my shoulder and turn to face its owner, a rough-looking Redguard mercenary.

"I recognize you." The man says. "You were the one healing in the temple, right?"

…I blame you for this, Mell. "For a short amount of time, yes." I nod.

He breaks into a wide smile. "Wonderful. I feel much more reassured knowing that a healer of your caliber will be taking the field." He waves to…oh!

 _Frieda gives us a warm smile and a wink._

The lady whose name I forgot!

"You're going to be attached to Warwolf Company?" He says, looking at Jake. Is that what he's going to name us?

"He's a good friend of mine." Jake speaks up. "Warwolf Company leader, Jake." He extends his hand.

"Metal Rain Company Leader, Rovain." The man shakes Jake's offered hand. "If you don't mind, we'd like to operate as a cooperative unit." He looks to me, then Mell's breasts, then Mell's face.

 _Mell rolls her eyes at Rovain's eye path._

Even when protected by armor they're marvelous, or something. Mell's got her immaculate leather armor, though it looks like she hasn't cleaned it too much since the last month.

"Sure." Jake agrees to Rovain's plan. "Nice to see you again, Frieda." That's her name. Got it.

"Hello, Jake." Frieda says in a…rather seductive manner. "Are you prepared for this battle?" Is my best friend starting a harem?

 _Mell bristles a little at Frieda's playful punch on Jake's arm. We don't notice, but she's wearing the bracer we made. On the bracer is a multitude of deep-looking cuts that testify to the amount of wear and tear the piece of armor has gone through. She's also wearing our cuirass, but that's hidden underneath a travelling cloak._

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be." Jake spreads his arms to show off his gear. "I have my best friends with me."

"Good friends are hard to find in this line of business." Rovain grins. "It'll be an honor, Warwolf leader."

…And then Jake threw me a curveball. I mean, he waited until the niceties were over and we got underway, but he threw me a curveball all the same.

"So, uh, can you make us some insignias?" He asks in a low tone.

 _Our travelling arrangements…_

We're all on foot since none of us (Metal Rain included) have experience with horseback riding. I'm sitting on the supply wagon with Mell and Metal Rain's support healer. Mell's making additional potions despite the bumpy ride and I have my sewing equipment. Everyone else is walking.

"We get a bigger share of the spoils, plus everything we loot, if we're an independent unit." Jake explains further. "I registered as a freelancer unit. Hope you don't mind."

"It'd be nice if you told me this earlier." I sigh.

Jake grins sheepishly. "Sorry. This is the first opportunity I got." So he did it on a whim. Got it.

Meh. "Will over-one-shoulder capes work?" I love small capes.

…

As we approach the bandit palisades after four hours of marching, I finish the capes (four in total). They're simple drab olive capes (why is that the only color) and have a crude stitching of a white wolf with a broken chain inside its mouth.

Alternatively, it is a giant misshapen marshmallow (with eyes) masturbating an ejaculating sausage. I'm not very good at fine embroidery yet.

"I guess it stands out" was Jake's lackluster verdict. He gets the last one I made (the one closest to the actual warwolf image). I give myself the marshmallow one, because at least I have my craftsman pride.

 _He says as he proudly wears the unnecessarily lewd image._

"Alright, we're here." Rovain says with a soft exhale as we make camp at our current site. We are hidden from view (hopefully) by a series of low hills. We can't see the bandit camp from here, so by all standards they can't see us.

The armorers, weapon…ers, and the alchemists offload their stuff and establish the base camp. It's all pretty simple stuff: crates doubling as tables, roughshod whetting wheels…big tables that ominously look like it's going to be used to handle the wounded…

…I'm realizing at this point that this is going to be the biggest fight I've ever seen in Skyrim, period.

Fingers crossed that none of us are gonna die, yeah?

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes: No actual disrespect meant towards the ones who pointed out the crossbow business, mind you.


	10. The Mercenary Experience

{ === + === }

We have finished setting up camp. There is a grand total of roughly eighty mercenaries in this camp, plus ten support staff (I'm one of these), organized into roughly fifteen groups. Some groups are bigger than the others. It's just a bunch of tents, really.

When we finish setting up, some of the lighter rangers (on-foot bow folk) arm up, talk among themselves for a while, and sally out.

 _How's the organization in the camp? People-wise._

The most experienced mercenary captain has been given de facto leadership of the entire operation. The pay is split evenly among all teams in the operation, the loot is free for all, and everyone has their own professionalism and future employment opportunities to think about, so there's no butting of heads, which is nice. Professionalism and a lack of backstabbing is nice.

Anyways, everyone except light foot infantry has been told to sit and wait while the rangers go first, and everyone chooses to follow the order for their own safety. Since I don't have anything to do, I'm gonna go see why the rangers are being deployed.

 _We climb over the hill protecting the camp after the rangers take to the field._

Oh, I see.

The bandit camp is—from the outside—a large ring of wooden palisades. It's too far for me to gauge size, but given Common Sense the walls should be somewhere around eight feet tall. Above the wall is a trio of somewhat taller, unroofed, observation towers. I assume there are people standing on said towers given the existence of moving shapes on those towers. I can see one break in the wall from my current position, which means that an entrance is right there.

As the rangers close in on the bandit camp—not nearly close enough to get a good shot, I think—bandits that are on watch give some kind of signal and mages come out and start shooting fireballs at the rangers. Literal fireballs with a rather significant splash radius, I should note.

The rangers are basically kiting the fireballs, gauging the stockade's defensive range, so on, so forth. I think this is basically a skirmishing action. Either way, I'm very glad I'm not a ranger.

 _Defensive range?_

Basically, finding the blind spots in the enemy range. By the looks of things, one of those blind spots Has a bear trap, discovered by the leg of a ranger.

…yeah that Ranger is a wee bit fucked. The lady's foot is caught and she gets hit by two fireball aoes (so no direct contact but definite damage). One of the other rangers (same team?) goes over to the lady and try to cut her loose. Aren't bear traps metal?

"Idiot." Freia comments…when did she get here? We both watch as ooh god I see what she means.

 _The two rangers are too close to each other and fireballs engulf the two of them._

I think they're dead. Given that one of them seems to be actually on fire, I assume that the one that got bear-trapped is dead. The other one is alive, though, and he…oh jeez that seems a little extreme

 _He takes his blade and hacks off the girl's foot and carries her away._

The fireballs are choosing non-retreating targets, so the…man and corpse are fine. Fine-ish.

They beeline it back to home base and it just smells like barbeque. I'm not sure what's the operation procedure when it comes with the disposing of What the fuck she's alive?!

 _The charred corpse is breathing, if slightly._

Uh…so how do I do burn injuries? Um…layers of the skin is first, yeah? I vaguely remember reading about this, but the biggest problem with heavy burn injuries is more infection than anything…I dunno, anything concrete?

So…um…

 _As we're thinking this over, the Girl Ranger's team is talking in hushed tones about a mercy kill as the Almost!Corpse whimpers faintly._

First, bolster her immunity, then…what do I do about the skin? If she's burned this bad then her skin is pretty much dead, yeah? So…um…

…well, skin peels, doesn't it? If it peels, then it grows in layers. If it grows in layers, then there should be a bottommost layer of cells that is the most…alive, with progressively more dead layers of cells up to the top of the skin.

Really regretting not taking that Intro to Bio more seriously.

But I think I'm more or less correct, so I should be able to pull this off. At least they laid the girl on a full body piece of cloth.

Ok.

 _Her team stops their discussion momentarily as we kneel next to Girl Ranger, on the opposite side of their team cleric._

"What do you think?" Says the attending Cleric. He's been keeping her from bleeding out with constant Healing Hands for the past minute. He's also a kindly looking, white-haired, wrinkled old…Imperial? Who looks like he has a lot of battlefields under his belt.

"I wanna try something." I say. "Can you keep her stabilized? Er, I mean, from bleeding out?"

The Cleric stares at me then nods. "Alright." And then goes back to doing exactly what he was doing. He reminds me of my grandfather.

Focus. Ok.

 _Over the next ten minutes we try and pump energy into the healthiest layer of the Girl Ranger's skin cells and immune system._

God I hope she has no autoimmune diseases.

So…that's the skin. What else? What else does burning do to a person? Fucking everything, yeah?

Let's expand that healing range to everything in her body. Heart, lungs, spleen, kidney, baby bits, all of it.

…

After an hour her breathing strengthens and calms down a little, and I have no idea if we succeeded or not. Hopefully we did. At least she doesn't look…burned, anymore. She wasn't in sustained flames, so her skin wasn't too fucked to begin with.

 _As we continue to do this, other burned or arrow-shot Rangers return to camp. The Old Cleric leaves us to our job and go take care of the less serious cases._

…

Whew.

 _Another hour passes by._

I think I've done my job correctly, because she's opened her eyes! Yay!

Still, taking a Fireball (Fireballs) head-on is near fucking fatal, yeah? Let's try to avoid that in the future. How many fireballs was she hit by, anyway?

Anyhoo, she now has a burn marring her right eye down to her mouth (for some reason I couldn't do anything with this) but she's otherwise healed.

 _We sit back with a deep exhaling breath._

I'm spent, so I'm going back to my own tent. I got 10 points out of this. My mana's back up to full—yay perks—but I am mentally exhausted.

…

[Next Day]

…

Jake fills me in the details that I've missed. In a nutshell, the Rangers continued with the skirmishing. For the day's actions, there were a total of 40 casualties, 2 fatalities. Obviously we don't have 40 Rangers, so some of them went out again after patching up their minor injuries.

I saw that Ranger lady earlier this morning with basic motor skills, so she's obviously not dead. It is at this point that I remember that necromancy is not illegal in Skyrim.

Anyways, she seems to be ok. Her motor functions are a little fucked (judging by a conversation she had with the Old Cleric) but otherwise she's ok. She's also missing a foot, so that might be why.

 _So we slept through the night?_

Yep. The mercenaries had Khajit units watch the camp during the night just in case if they tried some shit against us during the night, but at the end of the day our job is to disperse the camp, so if the bandits run away then it's all the better for us.

I mean, it takes a lot of infrastructure to build a camp that's as sophisticated as the one we're about to face, so if we just scatter them we'd get paid. If they build a second camp, then we can scatter that for some additional profit.

We also get a bagging bonus for each Bandit killed, which is…nice.

 _Should we be worried about killstealing?_

Top performing Mercenary groups get the biggest bundles of money…and then they get picked up by either the Imperials, the Stormcloaks, or the Elves. Nobody wants to appear better than they deserve because nobody really wants to be volunteered into the army.

Anyhoo.

Today's the big day!

The Rangers have mapped out the area around the camp, and we have two avenues of approach. Well, two plus one: there's the front door, the back door, and the giant pit of bloodied stakes.

Nobody wants go down the path of bloodied stakes.

Our Mercenary Army will be divided into two groups. One going in the front and one going in the back. We are going in the front.

"Fuckin' hell." Was Jake's very honest response.

As we've seen yesterday, the camp is pretty heavily defended with its own group of mages, so our attack group will be heavily dispersed on approach. The heaviest strikers (Jake included) will take point and barge their way through the front door so we don't bunch up and get murdered.

Incidentally, this means that the shock group will be going in second. The Rangers, like before, will be going in first to lure shots and return fire, so as to make the shock group's job easier. The third group will be the secondary attackers (so basically everyone else) and bringing up the rear will be supports like me and Mell who have no combat utility.

On the Main Gate front, we have ~10 Rangers, 4 Shock, ~20 Melee, and ~10 Support. These are estimates because everyone keeps moving around.

…I should also note that this isn't like a human wave thing. This is just the basic organization, and our plan boils down to "don't approach the main gate until it's clear." I'm describing everyone as if they are all melee units, but they're, y'know, not. We have a fair number of mages and non-Ranger archers in the mix, and I'm lumping them under the non-Ranger categories for simplicity.

 _We prepare for some more minutes before setting off._

No point lining up because we run the risk of being fireballed to death, and all that.

We climb over the hill, and the battle is jo-oh wow

 _Fireballs start flying in our direction._

Visually it looks like we're about to be pelted by…well, fireballs. A fireball's flying speed is pretty slow though, so we get around it ok by moving sideways.

 _As a group?_

A fairly loose group. We can all see each other, but we've scattered before we approached.

 _The fireball closest to us impacts the ground and we get hit with a blast of hot air._

I feel a vague sense of regret concerning my life decisions.

…

 _We dart around at the periphery of the enemy range._

The bandit fortress has basically turned into a porcupine. Fireballs and arrows (I think) are being fired from it in all directions at us, the attackers swarming the thing. I can't see the arrows but I assume they're there. The approach to the base is fairly flat with almost no natural cover, so our plan is basically to just zigzag until we get close enough to counterfire.

Which is what happens, mind. The Rangers hit their range first along with some of the lighter Support mages, and they begin pelting the bandits with arrows and Shock type spells. The rest of us have to approach the normal entrances like PLEBS

 _A fireball zips narrowly past our ear and land some distance in front of us._

Oh fuck that scared me. Note to self: keep eyes on the palisade at all times.

I am taking my sweet time to approach because I'm not a frontliner. Jake has been more or less beelining towards the tantalizingly open front gate. One of the other Melee units, being lighter armored, reaches the open gate first with his sword out and oh lord

 _A barrage of ice and shock spells suddenly and very definitely murder the man. His smoking corpse continues to move and disappears through the door, out of our line of sight._

Fun.

 _An arrow whizzes into our shitty leather shield._

AH FACK

 _The shitty shield is shitty and the arrow perforates it no problem. It is now in our arm._

Mother of Fucker.

 _We pull out the arrow and patches up the wound quickly._

That's gonna keep stinging for a while, ain't it? I can just tell. At least it wasn't aimed at my head.

As we get closer to the palisades as a group, the interception fire begins to congregate at the two entrances, which lets the Rangers plus Friends get into the defender's blind spots and intercept there.

 _One such ranger, his back to the wooden wall, pops out into range and snipes a bandit archer._

Oh, nice. A Ranger just headshotted a bandit.

 _The bandit archer's friend returns fire._

Oh, not as nice. A bandit just headshotted a Ranger. He's not that far from me so I can make a detour. Plus he's real close to the wall, and that's where I want to be.

Let's see here…yeah, he's dead, direct shot to the eye, not breathing. RIP unnamed NPC, you will be missed.

…am I allowed to loot allies?

 _Five second rule._

I'm not gonna _eat_ it.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

While Ash is off doing his own thing, Jake is a few steps removed from entering the camp's main entrance. Aware of the trap behind the main gate, he readies his fifteen-pounder greatsword and leaps just as he enters the main gate.

Upon crossing the threshold, Jake could see a good twenty bandits making a half-circle around the main gate. The front line of bandits, bristling with spears, wait patiently for him to come into strike range while the back line draws their bows and readies their spells.

 _Well fuck._ Jake throws his greatsword like a Javelin and draws his shortsword. The distance between him and the closest target is a good ten meters.

The bandit archers let loose their barrage of arrows and a few make glancing blows, skimming off of Jake's armor. The fact that all of the arrows curved slightly towards the flying Greatsword registered on nobody's mind. The Greatsword finds an archer's torso and happily buries itself in the man's left lung.

Jake manages to close in the ten meters towards a Bandit spearman faster than the mages could expect, and their shots fly wide. The spearman was also not expecting this kind of charge speed, but braced all the same with his shield.

Jake barrels right into the bandit and tears the shield away with his off hand. He plunges his short sword into the Bandit's surprised face as the rest of the guard folds in behind him.

 _Ash said the armor's thin on the back._ Jake recalls. Armed with that knowledge, he continues charging towards the archers, retrieves his greatsword, and whirls around to face a pair of spearmen about to make their stabs.

The greatsword, being a rather sizable object, catches one of the spearmen's shield and sends him tottering into his buddy. The moved bodies give a clear line of fire to one of the mages, and he obliges the opportunity with an Ice Spike.

Jake, having like a billion bonuses attached to his armor defensiveness rating, punch the offending shard of ice into glittery little fragments.

"Ah shit, it's the Bull." One of the Bandits groan.

"Damn straight." Jake replies, his smile feral.

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

Oh my god he just ran in.

 _Stick to the plan?_

What plan?

…ok, bonus! The fact that Jake just ran in is interesting enough to some of the bandits in higher places that they're focusing in on him instead. Which means I'm not being targeted for once.

Looking around…there are some casualties here and there. The drop in covering fire means the clerics can now move in and heal.

Reminder to self: LEARN WARDS. Literally every mage is using a ward except for me.

That said, since I now have free time, I can set up my baby and shoot. I'm getting close to the gate now, so I could provide support fire to the breach…

 _A fireball whizzes over our head and impacts the Old Healer. He has a ward but is still knocked off balance._

…or I can step out a little and nail that bastard shooting fireballs at the healers.

 _So we do._

It's a pity the autobalest is too unwieldy to be fired while moving. It's a great defensive weapon but it sucks offensively, I guess.

 _We finish setting up our weapon and_

Pew! Pew! Pew! Pew!

Two of the bandits on the closest observation tower take shots to the back of their head and stagger forward, then they drop out of sight. Health and Safety standards exist for a reason.

 _The shot to the head likely killed them first._

Maybe, but still, build railings.

Bandit anti-healer has thus been unharmed, since he moved back and I wasn't about to waste my shots. Time to Oh wait he's shooting

 _We pull our trigger once (it misses) then abandon our autobalest and run._

Very sad. The glob of fire—a fireball—strikes the autobalest. It doesn't catch and burn, fortunately, though the inherently unstable nature of the weapon means it is now likely too warped to be of use.

Maximum sad. I'll need to build a new one that isn't so reliant on everything going right in order to work. Maybe take some time and think about how to minimize the weapon's size.

Also, I call dibs on that bandit mage. I want his head on a pike.

The other Shock units have followed Jake into the breach, and the Melee units are going in too. Going by the sound of combat, the main action has moved away from the Main Gate and deeper into the camp. It's a bit hard to tell, but since people are not being cut down as they enter I think we can say that things are going well.

So let's follow them into the breach because I need to fuck that mage up for costing me so much time and money. But before that, let's retrieve the autobalest to dissect later.

 _So we do._

It's a little warm to the touch and the insides rattle in a rather worrying fashion, but it should still be good…in the sense that it won't burn me or else collapse arbitrarily. Anyways, let's head into the camp…

…The center of the camp is basically a bunch of pillars supporting a roof, with tables of Mammoth material scattered everywhere. Jake and the other Shock troops (including the ones from the side gate) are carving deep into the Bandits. There's not a semblance of a combat line, and the fighting is all over the place. Were it not for the over-one-shoulder cape I would not have picked him out of this mess. Good thing all mercenary units brought their own distinguishing marks, eh?

The bandit mages and archers on the higher ground have switched entirely into defense mode, and are liberally pelting the inside of the camp with fireballs, firebolts, and arrows. Which is kinda good, because as we watch one of the Bandit archers get pulled over the wall by a (I think) Merc Ranger armed with a polearm and some ingenuity.

 _We have, more or less, not moved from the main gate._

"Jeez, this really turned into something." Erik says as he rushes in after us. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"I'm good." I reply. He nods and follows, intent on chasing after Jake, I think.

I don't know if I should go after that healer killing ba-well he just got his shit perforated by arrows so I'm not gonna get my revenge. Fuck you, nameless NPC archer, but good shot.

…Also they have a seriously good archer. The bandits, I mean. The bandits are losing the battle and are slowly retreating into their rabbit hole. The door is protected by two buff and experienced shield-sword fighters and they're holding strong, not dealing much damage but doing a superb job keeping their attackers at bay. Right behind them is a pair of mages throwing up wards against incoming projectiles, along with a bullshit powerful archer loosing arrow after arrow like a nutcase. His accuracy is terrifyingly g-MOVE

 _He snaps towards us and fires a shot._

I don't move fast enough and it gets my shin. Fucking hell, but nothing I can't fix.

 _We get our mobility back in under ten seconds._

Can I say that I love self-healing? Because I love self-healing. Is it narcissism to say that I love my own abilities?

 _Probably just ego._

I'm out of the direct line of sight of the Sniper, but this also means I can't see what's going on, and I can only judge by sound. Currently, it sounds like: people getting their shit caved in on a frequent basis interrupted by the occasional fireball explosion.

I do have a clear sight to a section of the wall though, and I can very clearly see a bandit mage getting his brains shot out. RIP in peace.

…After a short while, the sounds of combat have more or less died down.

 _It's thirty seconds later, and we peek around the corner._

Yep, it's about over. The bandits are cutting their losses and have withdrawn into their rabbit hole, and the ones too far away from the hole entrance have dropped their weapons and are surrendering.

It looks like hell. The multitude of fireballs have blackened the earth, and the central tent-like structure is smoking dangerously, and one of the poles have collapsed, and one of the tables is burned, and everything smells like barbecue. I don't know if this smell is because of cooked mammoth or people and it greatly disturbs me.

Breathe in…breathe out. Ok.

 _We come out of hiding._

Jake seems to be ok. Hell, he seems to be unhurt. There's two or three mercs near him, and though I can't hear what they're saying, the body language seems to be congratulatory. There's too much noise from other people cheering and he's not being very loud anyways, so eh.

…well, he did his job, so now I do mine. Let's see.

 _The troops alive reform and divide into two groups again._

The second group is basically made of the rangers, and they're going to sit and guard the third entrance that I forgot existed: the pit of spikes. It's possible to exit the camp from that entrance, so they're just gonna sit and wait in case the bandits decide to run out the back door. This maneuver, I imagine, is more to guard our own rear than to erase all bandits.

The first group comprised of mages and melee units talk about how to approach this tunnel. The support staff (me, Mell, etc) get to run around and identify the dead and the dying. This is…arguably, not what I expected to be doing.

"Make sure you identify them and move them over there." The Old Cleric says as we get moving. "If you heal them on the spot, you might miss someone who's in need of more help."

Make sense.

 _We start to identify the bodies._

I pilfer a piece of blackened wood from a burned down table for scribbling purposes. o for alive, x for dead. 'There', incidentally, is an ad-hoc campground where the less magically inclined supports have provided hot water and fresh, moderately clean strips of clothing.

Some of the smith-oriented types, I should note (out of happiness), have commandeered the bandit's anvil and grindstone and are repairing some of the equipment damage that they can in this situation.

…

 _Ten minutes later._

Well, this makes me not as happy.

The casualty count: sixty. Fatality count: thirty. I don't have a convenient pop-up for bandits versus mercenaries, so it's a little hard to tell which side lost what. Also note: bodies that have been burned to a crisp or else were killed on the walls and had fallen outside were not collected. Magic fire is a little weird. I'm judging by the fact that some groups of corpses have people crying over them that we have lost at least twelve people. I think one group of four got TPKed by that bandit sniper, given by their similar looking cotton trinkets. Cripes.

Ok…my job…stabilize everyone before trying to heal them one-by-one. Boost immune system, blood cell reproduction, and…what?

Fucking hell I'm out of my depth.

 _We go around sprinkling heals on everyone who's not being attended to._

Mell's dealing with the dead. I think she's done this before because she is entirely calm as she sprinkles some kind of liquid onto the corpses. Given the amount of appraising remarks made about her actions, I assume this is what you do in Skyrim when you have a corpse you need to…do things with.

To clarify, she has a sprig of some kind of plant that she's dipping into a small, silvery bottle. When the plant comes out, it would have this weird, sparkling quality to it. She would then tap the plant against the corpse's head, neck, and stomach, before returning the plant back into the bottle.

 _As we watch, one of the mercs mourning for the death of his friend thanks Mell after her actions._

"Thank you for the blessing." He says. That's what it is?

Mell just gives a small, deferential nod. Hum.

Anyhoo.

We healers are busy stripping the boys and girls that are still alive. Most of the injuries are cuts and arrow piercings, which I'm way better at treating than burns because fuck burns forever.

I brought calipers with me, even!

 _Uh._

I clamp the wound with calipers and 'knit' the wound closed with a hefty boost of healing magic. It's about the closest thing I can get to a suture and I'm not sure my skill in knitting would translate very well to using a needle on the human body. I bind the wound after healing for good measure, just in case.

"Healer, what should I do here?" A cleric (lady working on the same person) asks. She's dealing with the arm. It looks like she's just finished cleaning the wound.

I don't like giving commands when I don't know what I'm doing. "Apply healing magic to the arm with the intent to boost resistance to gangrene." That wound looks rather deep. "Thread some magicka into the arm and see if you can find two reactions. If you do, link them together and maintain the connection before you bind the wound." I think I hear her go 'how do I do that' under her breath but I don't really care.

 _We don't really notice (because we're too distracted) but we're getting asked more and more questions as we continue to heal._

The magic reaction thing is the nervous system, I think. Having two reactions imply that the nerves in that area has been cut. Given the fact that the nervous system reacts to magic, it therefore follows that maintaining a magic link between the two reactions would cause the link to be repaired over time.

…I should also mention that this is something I'm assuming based on knowledge that I've had for the better part of thirty seconds.

 _We find out eventually that mending nervous system breaks like this incurs a long-term mana cost on the person in question. If your arm has a severed nerve, this would repair that severing, but would cause you to, say, have 10% reduced mana regeneration for three months or something. The fact that the nervous system contains mana is also why spells like calm and rage have an effect._

I'll need to look more into this when I get home, but for now I assume I'm doing good things.

Anyways, another ten minutes pass and we've more or less stabilized everybody. The intruder team also seems to have finished planning their assault.

Twenty minutes? "Yo, Jake." I get his attention. "That was a long planning session."

"Yeah. You done over there?" He says and I nod. "Nice, nice…it took a long time because nobody's all that interested in busting in."

"Elaborate." Though I can imagine.

Jake takes a stick and starts to draw in the dirt. "Well, first off, it's fucking tunnels. We have no good grasp on the lighting, lines of defense, and their reserves." He draws some tunnels. "They said we were up against a hundred, but for all we know they could have some more inside."

Fair. "So what's the plan?"

He looks up at me. "The shock troops go first and breach the lines."

…It took them twenty minutes to get to Leeroy Jenkins. WELP.

"Sounds good." I nod and get a durable-looking steel shield just lying around on the ground. "I'm going with you." I say to his unasked question. "Like fucking hell am I letting you go down there without field support." I cast Oakflesh on myself twice.

 _Twice?_

I can layer multiples of this if I set the second layer's protection point to the first layer. It's pretty bad in terms of efficiency, but the additional defense is welcome.

"Alright." He says with a grin and shakes his head. "Just so you know, I'm not responsible if you get your ass killed, white mage."

I grin. "I'm aware."

…

Jake's strike team (because of course he's not going alone) is him, Frieda, Rovain, Erik, two NPC archers (Dark Elves, henceforth Archers A and B), and me. I'm the outlier here, but I can heal, so I get to go. My inclusion into the strike team means other clerics also get folded into strike teams for supporting action.

For the record: Jake and Frieda are the Shock units. Erik and Rovain are the Melee units, and the archers are both archers and mages depending on circumstance.

We descend into the tunnels and, true to form, the bandits have snuffed every single torch.

"Ash, lights." Jake orders.

I throw up some candlelights. These lights are low intensity but far-reaching. I attach them onto myself so we can see where we walk without breaking our stealth too much.

 _'Low intensity but far reaching' seems like a bit of an oxymoron._

It does. But it works somehow, so I'm not going to question it.

There are no threats, and we reach the first hard turn without incident. Jake motions for me to snuff the lights, so I do.

Archer A presses himself to the wall and peeks around the corner. "Low light." He mutters…oh, right.

I shoot a low yield candlelight onto the far wall. Night vision doesn't work without any light sources, I imagine. Why did I have to snuff my light, Jake?

"We're clear." He says after a moment. "But it looks like there's a barrier further in."

"What kind?" I ask.

"Wooden, by the grain of it." He replies softly, but very pointedly towards Jake. "What should we do?" I guess he's hinting at the chain of command.

"I guess we'll break through if there aren't any side paths." He says. Archer A shakes his head. "Ok, we'll be breaking through. Ash?" He looks to me because we share command. In your face, nameless NPC Archer!

I should be less spiteful to someone who can shoot in darkness. "How does the ground look?" I ask. "Flat?"

Archer A's reply is a little bit grudging. "Won't be a problem for a charge. It doesn't look like there are any traps either."

"Ok." I try to crack my knuckles but think better of it. "I'll fire a low-yield flare behind the barrier so you'll get an idea of where to go. Jake, take the left, Frieda, the right. Shouldn't have to tell you, but the quieter you do it, the better."

"Aye." Jake readies his short swords. Freida does the same with a hand axe.

"What about the rest of us?" Archer B hisses.

"Light infantry will stick to the walls, archers will snipe pop up targets as they appear from behind the walls." I say quickly. "ID the target first before striking. Last thing we need is a friendly kill in a place like this."

"You've had strategist training?" Rovain remarks. "That's quite rare."

…is it? "I'm about as good as Jake." I reply faux-dismissively. "But he's going in, so I'm taking command." I should remember that out-of-expertise literacy is rare. But both me and Jake are literate, so I can just push the fame thing onto him.

 _We are the bestest friend._

I know, right? "Begin."

Jake's going in. Frieda's going in. They charge and their armor makes them basically giant tin cans oh my god I really should have sent in the lighter infantry first. The defenders are waking up from behind their barrier.

Jake and Frieda successfully make contact with the enemy. The loudness of their approach helped Erik and Rovain get closer without being detected at all. Between the four of them, they mop up the seven bandits holding the chokepoint without too much hassle.

"If there are more checkpoints down here, then they would have heard us." Jake says as we regroup.

Good point. "Everybody to the walls." I say and ready my shield in front of me.

After a few seconds, we hear a flurry of arrows sent down in our direction. One of them hit my shield, and one of them hit something soft on the other side. I've snuffed the lights so I don't know w-someone just hit the ground.

"Jake, plan B." I say quickly. "I'm using flash."

"Aiight. Everybody close your eyes." Jake says. "When Ash tells us to, we charge."

"You trust him a lot." Frieda remarks, but (I hope) does as she's told.

Another arrow plinks and glances off of my shield and boy do I not have the time for this FLASH

A trio of candlelights with maximized intensity gets fired down the hallway. Three extremely bright flashes fill the tunnels after some ten seconds of flight, followed by…a complete lack of reaction from the other side.

…I guess flash(not bangs) aren't a new invention, huh?

Good thing I fired two sets of them.

 _The second trio of flashes explode some five seconds after the first, accompanied by yells of dismay and a few "my eyes!"_

"GO!" Jake roars, the team of five takes off.

The one down is Rovain. Looks like the shot hit him square in the eye…but he's still breathing.

"Don't move." I put up a small light and crouch over him. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Silence was a necessity." He says, fighting to keep his breath even. "I didn't want to break the mission."

I'm pretty sure the mission was broken at that point. "You, sir, are a rank one idiot." I sigh. Let's try this new thing to use.

 _New thing?_

If the nervous system runs on mana, then I should be able to induce an anesthetic kind of effect by suppressing that flow around areas that I want to work on. I feel like my first experiment shouldn't be on Rovain, but going by the looks of things he's gonna be blind unless I succeed, so…sorry Rovain.

 _We start pouring healing energy into the area around his eye with the intention to suppress all other forms of magic in the area._

"My face feels numb." He remarks. "What are you doing?"

I might want to bring in some insurance. "Bite on this." I get a roll of cloth and stuff it into his mouth.

"Huh?" He muffles in surprise and then goes "AHFUCK" as I yank the arrow from his eye. I expected more screaming, though I guess the cloth helped.

Lessee…eyeballs are round, have a curved lens in the front, have nerve endings connecting the end, different types for reacting to color and intensity…I don't know a lot about eyeballs but I feel like I should be able to repair one with the help of magic™

 _We take a minute to patch up Rovain's eye as best we can._

By the time I finish, the second strike team has descended as well. We're staggering the approach so we don't get clustered in the tunnel and maximal murdered by fireballs.

"Ok, I'm up." Rovain gets to his feet. He's holding onto his shot eye (left) with his left hand. "Let's get back with the others."

So we do. In the time that we've spent away, Jake has led the way in the fine art of murdering camping snipers, and stands above a quad of archers with some very nice-looking broken bows.

"You alright?" He asks Rovain as we group up.

"I'll live." Rovain stops clutching his eye. "What's next?"

"There's a fork in the tunnels ahead." Archer B says. "I don't know how much deeper this goes, but the fork can mean nothing good."

"I think we can attribute our lack of imminent demise to the tunnel's continued depth." Archer A adds. "Still, I hate forks."

Have you tried a spoon?

Jake nods. "Ok. We'll see what we can do."

The fork up ahead is…uh, well, a fork. Apart from the usual wheelbarrows and mining stuff lying around, it is literally a tunnel with an offshoot path that veers right.

"Ash, get some light here." Jake orders as he moves the squad closer to the tunnel's right wall.

"Aiight." I get closer to the fork entrance and throw some candlelights downrange. Let's see…

…the fork makes another sharp left turn a little bit deeper in. I can't tell from here if there are guards hiding beyond that sharp turn, though the fork does seem to taper off as it gets deeper.

 _We describe that to Jake._

"Might just be a discovery tunnel." I add. "What's your call?"

"Let's take a look." Jake says. "Team two, you guys get the main path." He says to the leader of the second team (they caught up).

Team two goes down the main path and we advance down the side path. It does indeed taper off, and end roughly in a pile of inglorious rubble. Trapped rubble.

"Runes." Archer A says as a warning before we get any closer. I think I can see faint strands of mana on the rubble, but uh…I'll take his word for it? I'm not interested in getting close enough to get my face blown off just to dig into rocks.

 _Strands of mana?_

Like…little glowy lines. I'm calling them strands of mana because that's what I think it is. Anyways, we retreat back into the main tunnel and oh my god

 _A glut of fireballs zip through the main cave accompanied by explosions._

"Christ." Jake mutters as the explosions die down. Team two's probably dead now, yeah? "Ok, what now?"

"We can starve them out?" Erik offers. "I can't imagine them having much food down there."

"We can let them leave." Jake adds. "It's not like we _have_ to kill them here."

"We can get a little bit closer before we make a judgment call." Rovain says. "Pray that our intelligence wasn't completely wrong."

That's honestly the smartest option, so we go with option three.

…The rest of the tunnel is straight. Some of the snuffed torches has re-lit due to (probably) the fight between Team Two and The Bandits, and helps us illuminate the smell of burnt iron in the air. Also it's a bit smoky.

…It is an incredibly straight shot down the tunnel, and it's much longer than I anticipated, but after a full two minutes of slow walking, we begin to see a soft light at the end of the tunnel. There are no signs of barricades barring our path, which implies the existence of ground traps and another chokepoint.

Fuck™.

"I don't like this." Erik voices our thoughts. "I don't like any of this."

"Nothing stopping us from pulling back and waiting." I note. "Unless you wanna leeroy this, Jake?"

"Not too keen on that." Jake chuckles. "I don't get that kind of magic resistance."

What to do…what to do…

The biggest problem, obviously, is that we're facing an unknown amount of firepower that's beyond our sight range. As soon as we enter firing range they would have the first shot, and then we would die. In game you never really had the problem of walking into a firing arc, except that one part in the civil war questline, but even then you (the player) were given a side path to take. We don't have a side path.

 _That side tunnel, maybe?_

The traps aside, the tunnel is literally a dead end. I'm going to say that the bandits living here have a better feel of the tunnels than we do, so even if that tunnel has a secondary entrance it will likely be well defended.

Erm…

 _Why not repair the autobalest?_

It's not too badly warped so I can certainly do that, but…the problem with the autobalest is that it's functionally a stationary weapon. I can set it up, sure, but I would have to be within the line of sight of my target in order to do so. I don't have cover, they do, so it's likely going to end with me having to abandon the weapon again. Also (more related) I left it up on the surface with Mell.

On the topic of arrows, though, "Archers, how sure are you of your bow arm?" I ask the two of them.

"In a situation like this? Expect us to hit a target every other arrow at best." Archer A says modestly. Kudos to you for being honest. "What's your plan?"

I have one, though it's a pretty simple one. "We all run in to soak fire while the two of you pick off mages."

Moment of silence.

"That is a stupid plan." Jake says.

I know. "It'd help if I knew what the map looked like."

By now, team three has joined us and are faced with the same dilemma.

…team three has a bunch of conjuration mages.

"What if we sent in familiars?" I amend my plan. "Have them soak the first barrage before we charge in ourselves."

We are all in agreement that this plan is a marginally better one.

"Or we can just summon some Fire Atronachs." One of the mages quips.

We are all in agreement that this plan is a _way_ better one.

The Conjurors, with the help of some Fire Salt, conjures four Fire Atronachs. They are very bright, and we're not that far from the tunnel exit, so it's safe to say that the bandits know we're here. The conjurors then throw some dirt onto the Elementals, and then command them forward and onwards.

 _We will very likely be using 'Atronach' and 'Elemental' interchangeably._

The Elementals exit the dungeon first and are met with a spate of spells. There are a few fireballs, but most of the fire directed towards them are ice in nature. There are probably also arrows, but I can't see them.

The Flame Elementals are durable enough against attacks and they make some good headway into the primary room. They also do this thing where, at low health, they do a suicide rush against the lowest target and explode. Their bomb status allows both of our teams to clear the chokepoint and bring the battle into the main room.

The main room opens into a kind of a pit. Upon exiting the tunnel we're on a wooden raised platform that's been heavily doused in water. The platform curves to the right, hugging the walls of a large, open space. On the opposing side of our main entrance platform is another series of wooden platforms. The path to access those platforms are not immediately clear. On those platforms stand bandits and archers, some of whom have a direct, clean shot towards the tunnel. Everything is lit by torches.

…I should also mention that the tunnel exit is lathered with burns and broken arrows, a testament to the bandits' mediocre accuracy. The main entrance platform is also littered with the corpses of team two, some of which appear rather badly burnt.

Nevermind them. Team three scatter on the main entrance platform, raise wards, and begin firing at the bandits on platforms. Did the Flame Elementals…Atronachs, do Flame Atronachs fly or something? Because I don't see the bandits being threatened by—

 _One of the mages on team three summon a Flame atronach into the sky. It does indeed fly._

…Neat. I should learn Conjuration.

So team three is trading shots. Meanwhile, we, team one, have descended the spiral slope of the main platform—it's like ten feet up—and are charging towards the main block of bandits waiting at the base of the room. There's about twenty of them, and one of them is wearing armor of a high enough quality that I believe him to be the leader.

The bandits in the front form a shieldwall against Jake's impending onslaught. The bandits in the back ready Javelins and throw them at Jake. He is basically slow walking towards the bandits.

Jake puffs out his chest with a glare at the bandits and the Javelins literally bounce off of his armor.

"The rumors are true." Frieda says with a grin. "The man's invincible." She's about a step behind him.

The bandit leader, undeterred, draws his bow (Dwarven by the looks of it) and fires an arrow at Jake.

Jake punches the arrow into tiny little pieces. I am in awe.

"You don't know what you're messing with, boy." Jake says derisively (complete with a rather poor Texas accent). "Better put that down before somebody gets hurt."

The bandit shieldwall prepares to receive Jake. Jake unclips his greatsword, and with a MASSIVE golf swing (ish) snaps the entire shieldwall in half. He hit two guys, and both of them are now in pieces.

Wow.

"Surrender." Jake grin/snarls at the bandit leader.

He looks at Jake, at two of his dead dudes, then at Jake again, and draws his sword.

"Damn shame." Jake says, and the frontliners go to work. Archers A and B are with team three, and they're steadily winning against the enemy ranged units. Team Four has now entered and they've also split in half, with the melee component coming down to help while the ranged unit provides covering fire.

I have no frontline combat ability, so I'm just gonna sit back here and watch.

One of the bandits seem to take offense at the fact that I'm sitting here and watching. He breaks free from Rovain (taking a gash on the arm for his troubles) and beelines straight towards me.

I have no frontline combat ability, but that doesn't make me useless. Sparks gather on my hands.

 _We go emperor Palpatine on the poor sucker._

AH HAHAHAHAHAHA! THIS IS THE POWAH OF A SITH LORD!

My Shock is very mana hungry in exchange for more hitting power. I have mana to spare. The man is now writhing on the ground and I didn't even have to kill his next of kin to do it.

…I have fully embraced the Dark Side because my _goodness_ is it fun. The bandit is now twitching on the ground.

 _We shock him again for the amusement value. A bandit shoots an arrow us in retaliation._

I feel a nick on my shoulder and see an arrow bounce off.

On one hand: ha-ha!

On the other: whoever shot that arrow earlier at me is amazing at his job. Read into that how you will.

On the third: good on you dude for trying to protect your buddy but fuck you all the same.

 _We shock his buddy out of spite._

I really should stop that.

While I'm playing with my near-dead bandit, Jake has already cut his way to the bandit leader. The available walking space in the main room isn't very large, so the bandit footsoldiers actually form a rather deep meatshield against his intrusion. Nevertheless, Jake has doggedly managed to cleave his way through the ranks of defending bandits, his perks paying off huge dividends as his opponents' armor melts before his blade.

My sword is fucking amazing, yeah?

Jake went through five ranks of bandits (20 men in total) before the other five lost heart. They pretty much broke at the same time and scattered deeper into the room…in one direction. No points for guessing where the backdoor is, then.

The bandit leader, now nominally alone (the ranged bandits have surrendered), throws down his sword, puts his hands where we can see them, and gets down on his knees.

"Good boy." Jake grins, and ties the man up.

…

[Battle Over]

…

Whew.

The bandits that ran out the back did not go very far, as we learned later. The rangers posted on lookout saw them all coming out of the back entrance, but since the rangers covered the steps out of the pit with a layer of slick, shiny mud, the bandits could not make their ultimate escape and summarily surrendered to a man.

…

[Looting]

…

Yay~ Or not yay.

The entire camp is stripped of everything that isn't nailed down.

Warwolf gets to walk away with: the spellbook of Transmutation, the bandit leader as a captive, and an assortment of gear and materials. Erik estimates the loot at around 3000 gold to split among the five of us. Jake gets distribution rights since he's the unit leader.

All told, of the hundred-some (eighty-some) mercenaries sent to deal with the problem, 56 survived with another nine in 'true' casualties (people who need extensive healing). Of the 56, 40 of them had some kind of battle injury. 56 mercenaries in 6 teams, with one team having all but one of its members wiped out…the last surviving member is, literally, the team's proverbial pack mule.

We took 23 captives, two of which were leaders. There was a third one, but he slipped away some time before we set up our defensive net (I guess).

The total wealth sacked from the camp came to a figure of around 30,000 gold, including rare mammoth tusks, foodstuffs, furs, equipment, precious gems, and other material.

 _And we only get 3000 of it?_

The 30000 gold is just an estimate. Plus, both Jake and I were in agreement that the transmutation spellbook was more valuable in the long run, so we gave up some right of loot for it.

…the camp also kept slaves. Around 36 in all.

We found them chained together, kept away from the fighting in a separate room that was honestly quite too small for the amount of people involved. The group that found them brought them back into the main room, still in chains.

"Oh, wow." Was Rovain's very lukewarm response. "I'll take the pretty looking high elf."

"Into that kind of thing, aren't you?" Freida sniffed in response. "Six per group?" She said, to general agreement.

I realize, now, rather harshly, that me and Jake were the only people who had anything close to a negative reaction to seeing slaves. They were all wearing sack-hole clothing and looked…

…well, honestly? Not that bad. Like, they were skinny, but not to the point where it looked like they were being starved. They were dirty, sure, but were comparable to our mercenary folk before all this fighting began.

"Good to know the bandits had appreciation for resale value." Rovain commented as he picked out his slaves (four girls, two guys).

"What do you plan to do with them?" Jake asked, a little mechanically.

"Probably sell them to the guild." Rovain said lightly. "Not like I can afford to take care of them anyways."

Of course there's a slavers guild. Why would there not be.

"Which ones do you want, Jake?" Freida asked with all the tone of discussing about the weather.

"Fucking hell." Jake had muttered so only I could hear.

In the end, we took the two youngest (two girls (Can't tell the race)) and four oldest (3 men (2 Nord, 1 Orc), one woman (Breton)).

"You could have taken someone we could use." Was both Mell and Erik's response when they saw who we took. Not in those exact words, but in those sentiments.

I…I realize that this is the society they live in and that this sort of morals is standardized, but that did not stop me from hating the two of them just a little.

 _We're on our way back now._

I've finished doing my once-over of the slaves we claimed. The girls are suffering from some malnutrition and…probably issues deriving from said malnutrition. They won't talk, so the other slaves dutifully informed me that the girls were the newest slaves. The bandits told us that the girls were apparently refugees from Whiterun, captured at around the time when Mirmulnir buzzed the city. They were with a caravan heading to Solitude that was hideously underprotected, and when the bandits hit the caravan the guards turned traitor and the rest was history. The kids were apparently abandoned as everyone else scattered in every which way.

The bandits, unwilling to just leave the two kids alone, brought them back to camp. Their boss would not take the kids into the camp unless they were valuable, so the children were chained and enslaved. I'm not sure how I feel about all of this. Hell, I don't even know if the bandits are telling the truth.

Anyways…the girls are suffering from malnutrition and related health issues, the adults have some minor cuts and bruises but are otherwise fine. They don't really care for the girls because it's very much so every slave for themselves, which…again, I don't know how to feel about this.

 _We're all sitting on the (much lighter) supplies cart. In order to keep our mind off of this whole slaves business, we turn to look at something else._

WHOA WHOA WHOA

 _Rovain puts his sword to the neck of the High Elf he took and slits her neck. He then crassly pushes the woman to the side of the road._

JESUS CHRIST DUDE

 _"What the hell was that for?!" Jake demands as we leap off of the cart._

Heal heal heal heal heal

 _We immediately begin stabilizing the woman while repairing the damage to her larynx._

 _"She's a Thalmor battlemage." Rovain says coldly. "Thalmor scum deserve no less." He cuts across Jake's response. "I'm disgusted that you lot did not kill her." He says to the bandits._

 _"We figured the Aldmeri would pay a pretty sum for an officer." The Bandit boss said with a shrug._

 _"Idiot." Freida laughs. "The Aldmeri don't pay ransom. They'll just kill you and be done with it."_

Ok, ok, she's stabilized. "WHAT THE _FUCK_ , ROVAIN?!"

 _We obviously heard none of that conversation. Also, the caravan came to an abrupt stop because we jumped off._

He blinks at me. "Like I said, she's a Thalmor battlemage, and an officer at that. Do you support the Aldmeri Dominion?"

I'm a little bit too pissed to care. "You don't kill people like that!"

"I appreciate your candor, Ash." Freida sighs. "Keep in mind that quite a few of us have taken the path of a mercenary because _people like her_ made other ways of living impossible." She spits those words out. "Your adherence to the healer's code is admirable." She adds to mend bridges.

I…ugh. I don't know. "What made you think she's a Thalmor?" I ask tiredly.

"Left hand." Rovain says dismissively.

On the woman's left hand is an imprint of a small triangle with two little whiskers on its head, and two pairs of 'wings' on its back.

"That's the sign of a Thalmor." Rovain explains. "Only visible when the person in question is using magic, or has magic running through their body."

…I…I won't pretend to uphold some kind of shining armor moral code. "I'm against you just up and killing people regardless of who they are." I sigh.

"He's got a point, though." Freida says. "Rovain, that was a very Thalmor thing to do."

"I consider it equal payment." Rovain sneers. "If you want to keep a Thalmor under your roof, go right ahead. We will not be waiting for you." He says, and the caravan moves forward. "Just don't be surprised if she disappears one night and never returns again."

 _Jake stares at us, and we shake our head slightly. He nods and stays put._

The woman coughs and regains consciousness after five minutes of waiting. Five minutes of me debating what to do.

In game? I would have killed a person like her without a second thought. Because, above all else, it is a videogame, with a different set of expectations and norms. The Thalmor basically exist as a secondary set of enemies for you to fight and loot.

She's…y'know, real, now. I can't, in good conscience, kill her.

 _Even if she has the blood of a hundred men on her hands?_

And that's my problem. I've always been a bit (well, hell, more than a bit) derisive of people who don't take into account the other actions of a person in front of them just because those actions were not visible. So…yeah, to have something like this thrown at my face is a bit…

…I know I won't sleep easily if I do anything other than escort this person to safety. And even then I would not be able to sleep easily, because I would be indirectly responsible for any other kind of evil she may commit. I also know that I am not responsible for the actions that she chooses to take in the future…this is a pickle.

"I suppose you're looking for a 'thank you'." She says rather rebelliously.

I don't know. I really don't know. "Convince me that you don't deserve to die."

She stops short and sizes up the competition. I'm basically unarmed (I have a fruit knife). "As a healer? You don't have the guts." She spits.

…Well, Nuremburg is a thing, no?

 _As in…_

Even if you were 'following orders', there is an expectation that you are responsible for your own actions. I should be aware of what I am doing.

 _We lay our hand on the woman's head._

What, I wonder, would happen if I were to completely cut off magic flow from a person's brain to the rest of their body?

Answer: I don't have enough mana to do that. It's apparently a percentage thing, not a flat number thing. I did, however, make her extremely tired.

I could, like, make her system hypersensitive and make it a living hell for her to continue to exist, or else fulfill a common role in every work of pornographic material ever, but that feels like a douchey thing to do.

…though that does raise an interesting question. Could I artificially stimulate endorphin production or nervous system reactions? I mean, if it's possible to cast something like Fear or Fury then it should be possible, right?

Hmm.

"I hope that wasn't your attempt to kill me." The woman says with a surprising note of fear in her voice after recovering from my experiment. "It didn't seem to work." Aand it's gone.

"I'm having a crisis of conscience in your favor." I say. "You should be a little grateful."

"Oh, I am." She says, sounding quite ungrateful. "Should I kiss your feet?"

I should note that she is 'Skyrim Elf' and not 'Mod Elf'. Make of that what you will. "If I were to free you, what would you do?"

She blinks slowly. "Probably go back to killing your friends and family." She says in a flat tone. "I'm a Thalmor who's been captured once, what do you think I'll do?"

…Legitimately, I do not know. I've never been in a situation like this before. "So you can't go back, then?"

She rolls her eyes.

I put my hand on her head and think _really hard_ about spiking the nerves in her arms.

"Ow!" She jerks away, rubbing her arm. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." I say, because I only thought about it really hard. Note to self: learn Calm, Fury, and Heroic Presence (or whatever the ally buff thing is called). "But you should learn to keep a civil tone lest the other side takes you seriously."

"So be it." She says, and then clams up.

…are there magical ways to pacify slaves? Because I can imagine free will being a major detriment to the whole slavery business, as it usually is.

 _The slave has a band of calming aura around her neck, but since we don't know what to look for we don't recognize that it is there._

You know what? I don't have a sense of moral consistency and I definitely can't just leave someone to die out of politics. If this bites me in the ass, so be it.

"You're free to do as you please." I sigh and get to work following the caravan home. They're going slowly because people are wounded, so catching up should be no problem. "Though I do hope you'll follow me."

The catch-up process took like, a minute of light jogging.

 _The lady follows us back to the caravan._

"I figured you wouldn't go through with it." Frieda says with a smirk and holds a beckoning hand out to Rovain. He hands her a coin.

…I have to admit I don't have the stomach to entertain the fact that they just bet a coin on a murder.

"I'm going to guess you don't know the commands." Some other mage says as I climb back into the equipment wagon. Commands? "So that's a no." He snaps his fingers.

A ring begins to glow across the necks of every one of the slaves we captured.

Over the next few minutes, as I take a piece of cloth and sow, the mage goes through a handful of magic spells required to activate and use a slaving ring. The slaving ring, incidentally, isn't a high magic artifact. Basically the ring is a glorified journal, and you activate it when you want the slave to do as you want.

 _That doesn't sound very convincing._

It…isn't. It's a very 'honor system' kind of slavery by the sound of it. Acts of rebellion gets registered, which gets resolved at a later time, if at all. Generally slaves are expected to just pay off their debt and go off on their own way.

…well, I can imagine at least one scenario where this expectation doesn't match reality.

"What are you making there?" Rovain asks as I finish my little work.

 _The people that can walk are expected to walk. Healers and the wounded are exceptions._

Because we're valuable like that, or something. "A glove." I hold up a glove. It's a little long and thin but it's serviceable. "Wear this." I give it to the lady. "It would suck if that sign on your hand gets you killed."

"You are _way_ too nice to people." Rovain observes as the Thalmor girl puts the glove onto her left hand.

…

Eventually we make our way back to Whiterun. Under the advice of the expedition leader, we (me and Jake) take the captured slaves to the Slaver's Guild, where they get registered, cleaned up, fed, and properly taken care of.

 _Seems a little unusual for slaves._

According to the guild worker: "we don't make good business by selling slaves that are in poor condition."

I mean, hell, they even get new clothes. Simple clothes, to be sure, but new clothes.

Anyways, we get paid a grand total of 1000 gold for the five slaves we sold. Again, I realize that this is the norm for the local environment and thus I shouldn't put too much thought on it, but…yeah. I'm pretty not ok with this. They took the Thalmor lady too, though at a (supposed) steep discount because she's a political liability.

Tangent: better slave collars are reserved for high quality (read: POW noble) slaves. Those come with enchants and are easily a few thousand coins a piece. Small wonder they don't go on normal folk.

…also, we sold five.

"What about them?" I point (much to my own disgust) to the two kids.

"We don't deal in children." The guild worker says professionally. "And definitely not in girls."

…Can I punch him? I want to punch him. "Why?"

"No market." The worker says. "We've had bad experiences with dealing with children: usually they get abused or else just abandoned to an orphanage. As a business, it's not in our best interest to pay money for either of these things to happen." He leans in to whisper. "Most people looking for slaves are looking for workers or skilled craftsmen. If they're looking for children, they're in the wrong business."

Makes sense. I can't say I _like_ that train of logic, but it makes sense.

"The local Orphanage is overcrowded." He adds, almost as an afterthought. "If you want to get rid of them, you'd have to do it somewhere else."

Why are…oh, right, yeah. Mirmulnir.

Ugh.

 _We end up leaving the guilds district with the two grubby little kids in tow._

Mell has gone home as soon as we've gotten back to Whiterun, and Erik's sticking to Jake.

"So…uh…" Jake, like me, is deeply uncomfortable with the little wake-up call we've had in the past hour. "I'm gonna go find us a headquarters." He says.

Huh. "You can't work in the guild?" Whatever guild it was.

Jake shakes his head. "They take a cut if we do, so I'd rather find my own building. What about you?"

"I'm going home." I say. "If you're out, could you get me some hefty cloth mats?"

He blinks slowly. "Oh…really?"

Yes, really. "It's going to get cold soon. Also get me, like, two extra sets of wares."

He grins. "Ayep."

 _So…_

I am not a good person. I don't pretend to be. I'll probably stop caring about my idealized version of human rights after another year here, and I think I'll be ok with that.

…well, let's see if we can find the parents of these kids first.

 _Fingers crossed?_

Fingers crossed but I'm uh…y'know. Hedging my bets.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes: This took a bit of dark twist at the end, no?


	11. The Long Term Healing Experience

{ === + === }

It is roughly midday by the time we make it back to Whiterun. The first thing we do, of course, is to ask around for a family that's missing two little girls.

…which, if nothing else, shows my naivety on the whole subject matter. There isn't a governmental organization that keeps track of missing children, and the guards are…not exactly in the business of going out to find missing people. Searches, if they get conducted, tend to be done by people who know what they're looking for, which is usually family members, and the personal guards they employ.

In other words: the further down the economy ladder you go, the less likely you'll end up with search parties. Obviously exceptions exist, but we don't talk about them because they are exceptions.

Anyhoo, this means that I spent three hours to find out that these two girls are very much so unwanted and unclaimed. I'm leery to advertise because I don't want them to be taken away by some random nimrod, and frankly the fact that the two girls have been completely silent while under our guardianship isn't really helping matters.

I imagine it's a trauma thing. I don't have anywhere near enough psychotherapy knowledge to make a diagnosis though, so I'll lay off.

…So. What do I do?

 _We are now back home, with the girls napping next to the hearth that is indoors._

…they are dirty, malnourished, and tired. Riding on a cart in a caravan is pretty tiring, especially if you haven't eaten anything.

 _And we can tell because…_

They won't talk, but they'll still nod or shake their head when prompted.

…Ok, so…

…Ugh.

"Can the two of you stay here for a little while? I need to step outside for a bit." I ask them. Please don't die of neglect.

The older one nods.

"Ok, good. I'll be back in a little bit." I say, and leave in a hurry.

 _Where are we headed?_

The market. Jake is out hunting for real estate so I can't task him with my menial chores anymore.

 _We go to the market and purchase, in no order of importance: large bolts of cloth, large bags of cotton, fresh meats, grains, veggies, and potatoes._

I get the foodstuffs carted back to my house because I don't have the physical strength or the number of hands to carry the number of things I bought. Total cost: around 90 gold-ish.

Ok.

 _We are now home again, with a cart of food._

"Yo." Jake says. "Out shopping?" I guess he showed up when I was out. It was like a twenty minute trip so I'm not _too_ surprised.

Still, good timing. "Aye. Taking a break from househunting?"

"Eeh." He shrugs. "Erik's got an eye for property, so I'm having him do some of the leg work. Kid wants to help, so I might as well let him."

Fair. "Cool, can you give me a hand?" I ask him and gesture to the cart of food. "Cook for four."

"Sure thing." Jake says. I prep some hot water, we wash, then go to work.

 _We do our work outside._

"How long do you think the kids are going to be here?" He asks as we cook.

"I have no idea." I admit. "I'm trying not to think of what we have to do next."

"The Whiterun Orphanages are already overcapacity." Jake says and shakes his head. "That is the most fucked up sentence I think I've ever had to say."

Aye. "I'm thinking about sending them to Riften." I wince after saying that. I say 'sending' because I've just come from a rather tiring business trip (so to speak) and I'm not in the mood to make another one that is potentially more dangerous.

The fact that I am willing to send two little girls to do exactly just that says a lot about my moral compass, doesn't it?

"Uh…" Jake says slowly.

I know. "Like, send them with a caravan with a bit of gold and just cross my fingers." I shake my head.

"Yeah, that ain't happening." Jake chuckles. "We both know it."

Har. "I figured as much. Could you finish up? I wanna prepare a shower."

"I figured as much." Jake parrots me with a grin. "What for?" He asks, just to rib me.

 _We do, in fact, blush._ "Nobody eats at my table without washing." I say as toughly as I can.

"Yeah, yeah." He smirks as I go back into my house.

The two girls are napping next to the hearth. They're so tiny.

And so dirty, too. C'mon.

"Hey, you two." I say with just enough loudness to not scare them. "Wake up."

They stir. The younger one looks at me wi-no don't rub your eyes your hands are dirty

"Food's going to be ready soon." I say gently. "But before that, the two of you need to get clean. Can you stand?"

They both look at me blankly, but get onto their feet. God they're tiny, it hurts to look.

"Alright, come on." I take their hands and lead them outside, to the shower that I set up. Again, it's a bucket hanging high in the middle of a quad of hefty cloth to give them some privacy. This time, the square frame used to hang the cloth is a lot bigger, because I need room for myself and the two girls.

 _Erm._

I have zero faith that they can bathe normally.

"Ok, strip down." I'm beginning to see a problem here. I don't have a spare set of clothes for the girls to change into. Erm…

…well, one thing at a time.

The girls strip down as they're told and, again, they're so tiny…and so very bony. Good god.

Also they're incredibly dirty, so let's focus exclusively on that and worry about their health later.

Ok, here we go. I uncork the stopper on the first bucket and the water begins to flow. "You first." I gesture to the older girl, and she timidly steps forward and into the stream of warm water.

It makes her squeak in surprise, which I'm going to convince myself that it is a good thing. Ok. "Now stand still. Hold on to me if it helps."

I get my newest, and most amazing tool: a towel! PLUS SHAMPOO!

…kinda. Sorta.

 _Erm._

…so…you know how the trip back to Whiterun took a few hours? Well, travel is a great time to read, and I just happened to pick up the new best seller~

So. Transmutation. To summarize, it's basically my Replace but without the requirement of needing a destination rawmat—er, basically, if I wanted to Replace a section of armor with an Iron band, I would need to have that iron band on hand. Transmute doesn't have that requirement in lieu of having a _hideously_ high mana cost, with the cost increasing exponentially depending on a] the volume of material being transmuted and b] the difference in material composition.

I tested point b) by transmuting two small pebbles: from dirt to iron, and from dirt to chicken meat. Dirt to chicken nearly made me pass out, while dirt to iron was 'merely' draining.

The material that we're transmuting into is also dependent on the knowledge that the caster has on said material. The chicken meat wasn't very tasty and was still vaguely dirt-like, for example. The quality of the material asymptotically increases to 100% with each cast is what I'm saying.

So all this talk circles back to the fact that I've used an incredible godlike power to make some soap and shampoo, and I am going to use it to clean up a pair of orphans.

…honestly? I think this is probably the best use out of this power.

It doesn't sting, too.

 _…seriously though, how does it work?_

Transmute water into shampoo, transmute dust into 'no sting powder', Replace 'material in shampoo' with 'no sting powder'. If I had the energy to rinse and repeat it I would, but I don't, so I'll just make do with this for now. It's powder, which is cool. I have enough for a small packet and it is, quite literally, only somewhat better than nothing.

Anyhoo!

I use half of it and mix it with the hot running water. When the towel's nice and slippery I get to work cleaning the slightly bigger girl. Some of the dirt's already been washed off by the water, so the soap has a little less work to do. The water running down her legs are basically black with dirt.

 _Some thirty seconds of scrubbing._

I pause a little upon realizing that I would have to clean her more intimate areas, but hygiene comes before social norms. I'll get her to clean up after herself when she's better fed.

 _Some more thirty seconds of scrubbing._

She had wispy, grey, matted hair going into the shower. Coming out, her hair is sky blue. It's very pretty and goes to the middle of her shoulder blades.

"Wow." I whisper. And then I remember that Mirmulnir's attack was practically two months ago. Time flies, no? Two months is more than enough time for a girl to starve to death, so good on her for having held on for so long.

"Ok." I give the older girl a pat on the shoulder. "Get one of those towels and dry yourself off." I turn to the younger girl. "Your turn." I uncork a second bucket.

She, with far less reluctance compared to the older girl, walks into the water. She also squeaks in surprise upon realizing that the water is warm.

We scrub her down. She's…um. Purple? Purple-blue-ish? Hair that goes to her neck at best. Wine-colored hair? Red-wine colored hair?

But anyways, the second bucket of water's gone and she's cleaned up nice and proper, and I also send her to the towels so she can dry off.

They do a…decent…job, and are now clean and somewhat dry. They are also starting to shiver so we should probably head indoors.

"Done?" Jake asks as we leave the shower setup and back into the house. "Good, food's ready." He's already set the table for four. We have a full spread: soup, veggies, meat, bread, not divided into any portions.

"Awesome." I lead the two girls by the hand to the table. "Jake, take care of them for a bit." I then bolt back into the house storage for the cloth, cotton, and my sewing gear.

Nothing frilly, nothing tacky, just make two dresses at MAXIMUM SPEED

 _It takes us eight minutes to sew two dresses. Meanwhile, Jake has the girls huddle over the hearth again so they don't get a cold._

The dresses are very, _very_ basic. It's basically two tubes of cloths sewn together with cotton stashed in the middle. The stitching holds up, though if I pull on it with any semblance of force it buckles rather worryingly, so…well, it'll hold for this meal and honestly that's all I need it to do for now.

 _We gained five points._

"Whew." I leave the back room. The two girls may be shivering harder despite Jake's best attempt to wrap them in a second blanket each.

Ok. "Let's get you two dressed." I had over one of the dresses to Jake, and we get the two of them warm. "How does it feel?" I ask afterwards. "Does it scratch anywhere?" I'm a little worried about my handiwork.

The older girl shakes her head, and the younger follows suit in an act of big-sister mimicry. They don't seem to have a problem with it immediately, so that's good…

 _We eat dinner without further incident._

I hope they liked the food.

Anyways, bedtime!

…minor tangent: the layout of our house.

We have a big room with a fireplace and a table. I built the fireplace because I don't trust myself to have an open flame in the middle of the floor. The big room also stores a multitude of boxes and barrels that store basic necessities like foodstuffs. Attached to the big room are three small rooms—one for my enchanting table, one for enchanting material like the enchanting books (currently one), and one that's basically an armory (also has only one resident). The bed is built on the second floor-ish: there's basically a somewhat walled-off half-attic that's built close to the fireplace to take advantage of the residual heat. I've also Replaced some steel pipes into the wooden floor with a water system heated by said fireplace, to get better results from the heating.

Anyhoo, the bed's there.

The bed itself, incidentally, has been upgraded into a mattress lined with springs. It's about the comfiest thing I can do because I don't know how modern (like, post-my-Highschool) mattresses work.

I made it _big_ because I like big beds. It's like a solid ten-by-ten(by 1.5) feet of material. So we get the girls to sleep here.

Upon seeing that the bed bounces, younger girl gives (oh my heart) she gives the mattress a little push, but she doesn't have the arm strength to move the spring. I want to give her all the hugs.

 _So…real talk. What's the plan for the future?_

I have no idea. I imagine that, as these girls are exposed more to the outside world as clean and well-kept girls with no obvious parents, "parents" might start appearing from the woodwork under the presumption that these kids are somehow lost nobility. So…either I'm handing them off or I'm keeping them around. I get attached easily, so it's better that I hand them off early.

 _What about Jake?_

He's sleeping next to the fireplace on one of the many futons I made.

 _And as a caretaker…_

He's going to be running a mercenary company. I don't think he's going to be doing a lot of dadding.

…

[Next Day]

 _…_

It's snowing.

Why the fuck is it snowing.

It's like…still fall.

Oh my god.

 _The snow outside is rather heavy._

I still have work, don't I? At least the forge will be warm.

"Welp." I say after a light breakfast. "I'll be outside at the forge. Stay inside, it might be cold. Don't play with the fireplace."

Older girl nods.

 _We step outside to our forge._

Oh motherfucker it's cold as tits out here.

 _We work for like, an hour._

NOBODY ELSE IS OUT HERE WHY AM I OUT HERE

…

Yeah I'm done.

The snow has gotten harder and it's impossible to work out here.

 _What are we working on, anyways?_

Steel wiring. A new tool for me to play with, really.

But it's cold and snowy and I just don't want to be out here anymore, so I'm going home.

 _So we do._

The two girls have, mercifully, not done anything to burn down the house, though I get the feeling they may not have done much of anything in the past hour.

…well, not like I have anything akin to parental experience.

 _We spend the rest of the day reading our spellbooks and the enchanting reference book._

…

…

[Next day]

Well that was irritating. The strength of the snow made it feel like the roof was going to collapse at once point. Fortunately I could responsibly clear the snow via shooting fire from my hands.

I am a bad parental figure.

Anyways, thanks to magic, my yard and forge is cleared. Throughout the day, teams of mages…oh, I guess that's why the roads are pretty clear. Teams of mages clear the streets with a sweeping janitor team, and they burn/sweep the snow off the street. The result is still a wet, gloppy mess, but at least it's done faster.

 _So…_

Since me and Jake had all the time in the world(ish) yesterday, we trained, planned, talked, and wrote. It's decided that we would document all the neat shit we want to build and draw diagrams for later use. The paper, of course, is built from transmuted plant waste—parts of veggies we don't eat, straw, etc.

Transmuting is doing a lot of work for improving my quality of life, not gonna lie. I now have a stack of printer paper (ish) lying on my desk and inside a series of wooden book binders. The paper is thicker than actual printer paper and is smoother than sold paper, and its way the fuck better than that paper for my purposes of writing and documentation.

Through our practice, both of us gained fifteen perk points each. I had points stashed that I didn't use beforehand, so we both sat and checked the tables again before taking points.

Result: Jake takes five ranks of nutritious cooking (better food results), five ranks of missile awareness (increased evasion against arrows), and five ranks of poison resistance (gives poison resistance).

I have a major perk, so I take Enhanced Magic Breathing. I now regenerate mana at quadruple speed before bonuses, though I also take 4x damage from magic attacks.

For my minors, I take ten ranks of heal mastery (better healing effects), 10 ranks of magic recovery (mana recover speed up), four ranks of weapon and armor making masteries, and two ranks of tailor mastery.

For the last two points (because I could not do math), I took a rank of enchant mastery, and a rank of Multicast mastery (better results when casting two spells at once).

Basically, I want to fill out my role of a mage fighter in the event that I get jumped in a dark alley…while staying true to the fact that I have a day job that involves comparatively less violence. Jake is sufficiently worried about being assassinated that he's taking proactively taking precautions against it. He's getting pretty famous, after all, and if current trends are anything to go by, it's not gonna stop.

Anyways, snow is over. I'm outside at my forge. A lot of people need daily necessities like nails, lanterns, fire pokers, and so on, so I'm more or less making those.

The girls have received clothes that weren't made in eight minutes. Another thing that transmute can do: change colors. Older girl now has a metal blue-ish dress with extra thick cotton padding, and younger girl has a similar dress but in a metallic maroon. I didn't want to make the dresses brightly colored because that draws unnecessary attention.

Given that it's sunny and relatively warm, the two of them are now outside. I'm having them play outside to help build up their strength, though they're afraid of my regular customers…the fact that I picked up two children from a slave raid is an open secret, so nobody minds that I now suddenly have two kids. My regulars are as friendly as they could be under the circumstances, and are trying to be on their best behavior.

More importantly.

"Wow, so this is your shop." The Nord Fighter woman…Frieda? Remarks upon coming to my shopfront. "Good afternoon, Ash." She says.

Hm. "Yo." I greet her in reply. "Need something?" It's afternoon, and most of my regulars have left leaving me to the process of making some new lanterns. My lanterns are basically steel mesh cubes that lets you remove the bottom to attach the candle onto. I'm making them because winter's coming and people want to buy them.

"I'm here on a recommendation from Rovain." She says rather dubiously. "But you're a blacksmith." She adds, almost to herself.

"Yeah…?" I do a lot of things. "I can also heal, carpent, tailor, and dechant." Sadly I don't know how to enchant still. I should start retrying. "What did Rovain want you to do here?"

"He wants me to have you check my health." Frieda says, still dubious. "Apparently he thinks rather highly of your clerical skills."

…I know what she means, but it sounds like she wants me to photocopy things for her. "I'm glad for the praise." I say. "Though if you're looking for healing, you'll have to wait." The temple's warmer anyways.

"Oh, sure." Frieda pulls up a chair and warms her hand by the forge. "It looked like you were busy, so I didn't want to impose."

She patiently waits as we finish our lantern. "How are those kids?" She asks as I invite her inside. The kids follow obediently, since (I think) they're terrified of being alone.

"They're more physically fit, though I wish they'd talk." I say. "It'll make everything easier." They also don't know how to write, either, so we can't just give them a pad of paper and be done with it.

"Ain't that a shame." She says and sits down per my invitation. "So, what do you need me to do?"

Easy. "Just hold still for now." I say and put my hand on her head.

So, I've been experimenting with the whole 'nerve ending' healing thing that I learned back at the camp. I've been practicing on myself and some dead chickens. Related: I have some dead nerve endings.

Basically, magic power can be channeled through the nervous system. I plan to go buy books of Calm, Rage, and Hero(?) later, but for now I can get a feedback just by using raw magic power. The nervous system doesn't need to be alive to respond to the magic power, though it feels _way_ better when the system is alive than when it isn't.

A nervous system that ends 'normally', like, say, the tips of the fingers, will have a graduated fade compared to a cut system, which just ends. This way, I'll be able to feel out any faults within the target body's nervous system. The problem, of course, is that if I'm getting too much information I won't be able to pinpoint exactly where the issues within the bodies *are*.

Right now, I am basically always getting too much information…though I do have a guess based on how fast the response rate is. Faster = closer to the point of origin. Raw magic power seems to be slower than electrical power, so…y'know, that's good.

Anyways, I take a look at Frieda's nerve system response and all of it is pretty nominal. I don't have the experience to figure out anything else…correction, mostly nominal. There's a fast blip response that indicates the presence of a nerve-ending injury.

…given the response speed…her hand? Might be her hand. Let's start there.

"Clench your fists for me." I say.

 _We unconsciously mimic a doctor's tone._

"Ok." She does as she's told…her left pinky doesn't move. Well, it _moves_ , but only in the sense that it's connected to the rest of the hand. It doesn't bend, is the point I'm making.

I put my hand on her pinky, touch a raw chicken, and Transmute/Replace a section of chicken to emulate the nerve endings in her pinky.

 _Er…_

I don't have the medical knowledge to 'make' new nerve tissue, but I Transmutation can be mixed with Replace to copy/paste existing materials. The efficiency is also not 100%, but it's better than…like, 2%. If I didn't have this bullshit huge mana pool I don't think this would even be possible, so that's nice. Or something.

In any event. "Alright, try again."

Frieda clenches her entire fist. The pinky's a little stiff, but it seems to be serviceable. Apart from that little tidbit, I didn't feel anything else wrong with her nervous system.

 _Frieda is staring at her hand, clenching and unclenching it as we move to put the chicken back into an ice box._

"How did you do this?" She asks, sounding rather surprised.

I'm not about to blab. "Trade secret." I say. "That does it for an examination. If you have specific injuries you want looked at, I suggest you go to the temple for a more comprehensive care."

"I'll keep that in mind." Frieda says in a low tone. "Thank you for your services." She drops a pouch of gold on a crate I'm using as a table and leaves. There's about two hundred there.

…what was that all about?

…oh well.

"Are you two hungry?" I ask the girls.

The younger girl nods enthusiastically. Dinner time it is.

…

The next week passes by without incident. Snow starts to come down on a regular basis, but it's light and fluffy and not a big issue to people who are familiar with this environment.

I am not familiar with this environment. Which is why I made coats. They are big, furry, beige (why beige?) and rather cumbersome looking. The fact that they are cumbersome has made me and Jake rather stupid.

"Hello, comrade." Jake says in a stupid fake Russian accent. "How does the morning greet you?"

" _Da,_ comrade." I reply in an equally stupid fake Russian accent. "The snow, it is good for work, eh?"

I mean we even have the circular furry hats, too.

 _You made them._

I know, and that is why I know they are stupid. Very comfy, though.

"Comrade Ash!" Jake says with one of his better attempts to keep a straight face. "I have request!"

"Yes, Comrade Jake." I reply and I am _barely_ keeping my shit straight. "What is your requ" nope

 _We burst out laughing._

"Almost. Almost." I almost had it. "What's up, man?" Back to normal I go.

 _So…_

Jake's Warwolf Headquarters is about five doors down to our forge. He's bought an abandoned warehouse (and its neighbor) and is spending some money to redecorate and rebuild the insides as a passible barracks. To that end, he's directing a lot of money throughout the Clover to build rapport and to, y'know, hire people.

He's not funneling money my way because a) I'm going to be Warwolf's chief weapons producer and b) I need to study my magic and my enchanting. Jake's looking into hiring a proper enchanter for the up-and-coming company, but the general consensus is that the cost is too high for a new group that doesn't have a lot of monthly income to back it up.

…So I'm going to be the Smith, Enchanter, Healer, and Tailor of the group. I better get four paychecks.

Jake also tapped Mell to be the party apothecary, and she's agreed. She's also moved her old workshop to be at the new building.

 _Why?_

Her old location was pretty terrible in terms of foot traffic and she was slowly losing money. Plus she still has a crush on Jake (I think) and this is a good opportunity for her.

Aria is nowhere to be seen, and nobody has seen her for a while. If I had to guess, I would think that she's going to find the horn of Jurgen Windcaller, but I have no way to confirm that suspicion.

…is Jurgen Windcaller the Civil War quest target or the Greybeard quest target? I forget.

Erik is the group's quartermaster because he has a mind for these kinds of things. He's also Jake's backup in terms of swinging around objects designed to cause death.

Currently (as of this morning), Warwolf has a total of four leaders and two prospective newcomers, and Jake already has a mission lined up for them (clearing wolves from a farm). I have no comment on how Warwolf's first official mission is to wage war on wolves.

Anyways. While he's off doing that, I'm going to learn my magics and then focus all of my efforts on figuring our enchanting.

First off, I have my eyes set on the spells Calm, Fury, Courage (not Hero), and Ward (of the lesser variety). If I bankrupted myself I could by all books, but I'm not in that much of a hurry. I have enough spare cash to buy two of the four, and so I took Ward and Courage.

Ward is basically what I wanted Oakskin to be. A ward is a shield of magical energy projected in a shape pointed in a certain direction (usually in front of the caster). The shield absorbs a certain amount of incoming MAGICAL energy and bleeds it off into the environment. Wards can be strengthened by pouring more power into it, and its shape is changeable (with more esoteric shapes taking inordinately more power). Wards can be broken by magic that either a) overpower the ward entirely or b) can 'pierce' the ward somehow.

I stress magic because it can't stop physical strikes. I got Jake to toss some pebbles and they went through the wards without problem. Otherwise, wards…do pretty much what I want them to do. I have big plans for this thing if and only if I can get enchanting to work.

 _Note: Wards soak incoming force based on its impact size. Magic tends to 'bleed' when it comes into contact with a target, which allows the ward to soak more of it. A pebble with kinetic energy will impact a smaller area and lose less energy as a result. We don't really find this out until later because Jake threw the pebble as hard as he could and it went straight through the ward._

Courage is basically liquid stupidity. The target becomes more confident and more willing to take stupid risks, becomes more resilient to magic damage, and is in general more willing to do stupid things. The spell does not increase health or actual damage resistance. I have every reason to believe that this spell affects the target's nervous system, but the only thing I can observe is the outward effect, so…yeah.

I think the spell can be used for interesting things, but I don't know how to make use of it yet.

…

As for Enchanting…

Given that the previous system did not yield results, I figured I should go back to the drawing board. Over the week I have gone through four different such drawing boards. No luck so far.

 _Is it possible to hire an enchanter to teach us?_

I'm sure I mentioned this before, but enchanting is a pretty rare business and good enchanters are highly desired. I…don't have the money to get an enchanter to come to the Clover and teach it to me. All the good enchanters (the ones that can teach the skill) are attached to a house or a guild, so getting those houses to farm them out is nigh impossible.

Still, I think I have something promising. Prior attempts resulted in me using one soulstone to do what I wanted to do. Now I'm using n+2.

 _Erm._

n being the amount of enchants that can theoretically be placed into an item. When I'm trying to enchant one item, I first Transmute and Replace the soulstone into a wire-like shape, taking inspiration from the illustrations within the enchanting book. I then Replace the soulstone wire with a metallic wire that I've built (Replaced) into the weapon.

I am abusing my power.

Next, soulstone 1 is used as a balancer for my magical power. I get the sense that I don't know how much energy I'm using and that's causing problems, so this stone is there to prevent that.

Soulstone 2 is used as the transference tool for the actual enchant, and it uses soulstone1 to bleed off excess energy as it places the enchant into the weapon.

…Sadly, this is all theoretical because I don't have an enchanted weapon to show for all of my theorycrafting, but I have managed to enchant a pair of fruit knives to be slightly hot and slightly cold respectively. I know they are their respective temperatures because I burned the cold one and froze the hot one and they didn't change. Or else I could just be bullshitting, I have no idea.

 _In game terms, both knives deal 1 point of elemental damage and reduce the target's resistance to that element by 1% per hit. The active mind will never find out._

On the plus side, all this got me 60 points to spend, so that's something. Jake only got 30 for the same time period, so I'm catching up.

 _So…_

I take 60 ranks of magic recovery. I'm not entirely sure what is wrong with me.

I also take the final ranks of Magic Breathing and Magic Channeling perks, so now I have a massive MP pool that recovers extremely quickly. I will also explode into a million pieces if I'm ever hit with something like a fireball. I am very glad that I was not hit by a fireball back against the bandits.

I also take the next rank of Combat Support (double crafting skill experience, half experience of everything else).

 _Why?_

I uh…to be honest, I was having a bit of a downer kind of day when deciding what perks to pick, and I just kind of…y'know, went with the simplest option. Less depressingly, I'm like 20 points away from maxing out magic recovery, and I'm very curious to see what's going to happen when I do.

Also, fun fact: taking the ranks gave me something like an adrenaline rush, because I could not stop shaking for the better part of the day.

As Jake usefully pointed out after the fact: "yeah, you have to spread 'em out over a few hours or things get weird." So that's nice.

 _And the children?_

Have more or less recovered physically. Younger girl helps out by cleaning vegetables when I need to cook, while older girl tries to do everything she can.

…It would make everything easier if they could talk, though. I've done checkups on them and I'm reasonably certain their mute-ness is not because of actual damage to their throats. I've also heard them talk behind my back in very hushed tones, so that's…y'know, good indication that they're capable of speech.

 _What's the problem if they never speak?_

They become unable to reliably defend themselves in court due to the lack of a standardized form of sign language, I guess.

…

[Next Day]

…

There's a bit of a hubbub. A few guards are rushing over to one of the more middle-class houses near the temple district.

"What's going on?" I ask a nearby guard.

"Somebody ransacked Amren's house last night." The guard replies. "We're on the lookout for suspects."

Amren…Amren…um…I feel like I should know that name. It's still bright and early, so I'm gonna go take a look.

 _We hang a "Out Walking" sign over our forge._

People complained when I left the other day without so much as a prior notice so I made this sign. Plus, this is a good way to stop them from knocking on the door and scaring the kids.

Let's see here…there's a small but building crowd in front of one of the houses. I'm going to assume that's Amren's place. Let's see here…

The house's front door has been forced open, based on the fact that it is swinging on its hinges in a very…loose, kind of way. The insides look seriously tousled, and the ground is just scattered with shards of pottery and destroyed flowers.

Wow, somebody had it out for 'em.

 _We mutter that thought out loud._

After a few minutes, the guards manage to scatter the crowd. I lag behind because I'm curious and have a slightly warped sense of self preservation. Amren and three guards take stock inside the house and come out after the crowd had dispersed more or less.

 _Some people (like us) are still hanging around, a good twenty feet away, trying to listen in._

"What happened here?" One of the guards ask Amren. "Start from the beginning."

"I don't know." Amren says while clutching a bloodied cloth to his head. "I heard a loud noise and woke up, and four of these…strangers…were in the house." He takes a breath. "Ok, I don't know if it was four, but I met four over the course of the night."

"What did they look like?" Another guard asks. The third guard walks over to me. Based on his body language, he's one of the guards usually patrolling the Clover.

"Hey, Ash." The guard says. "Can you come take a look? He's bleeding kind of bad…his wife needs some help too."

Aye aye. I nod and head in.

"Who are you?" Amren says to me, a little rudely. "Wait." He stops short. "I've seen you at the Temple of Kyneareth. Can you take a look at my wife? She's inside, sleeping."

Uh…I'm a little bit paranoid, so here's to hoping that she is literally just 'sleeping'.

First things first though. "Sure. Take that cloth off first." I say to him. He obliges, and I put in a round of healing onto his head before heading into the room.

 _Amren's headwound was a shallow cutlass cut. Normally it would heal after a day or so._

…

The insides of the house isn't very large (what I saw trashed was just the entrance). There's two bedrooms, a kitchen/living space, and a storage room. Everything is also trashed, with broken pieces of everything scattered every which way. It feels like a bull gained sentience and decided that he hates all china shops with a burning passion.

In what I assume is the master bedroom is Amren's wife along with two guards. The bedroom is hideously bloody, along with a dead Redguard dude in Redguard gear. I guess we know what caused this.

Amren's Wife is…oh dear. "She's…sleeping." I ask for confirmation.

"That's what we told Amren." Guard A replies. "Better if he doesn't get his hopes up about Saffir."

Amren's Wife, Saffir, is…uh…for context, upon entering the bedroom I thought the sheets were red as a decoration.

I put my hand to her head and run the nerve check.

Verdict: she's alive, but it's not looking good. There's a shitton of dead stops, to the point where I don't know what's going on below her waist.

I run another set of checks, starting from her hands and feet. By the looks of these responses, her torso has been messed up something fierce.

 _We glance at the bundle of rags bunched over her body. It's a bloody mess._

In retrospect, I could've guessed this without using magic. She's still alive, though, which is kind of incredible given how red everything is.

"Let's get these rags out of the way." I say to the guards. "Give me a hand."

We remove the rags and…wow. She has severe cuts all over her body, along with what I'm assuming is a piercing strike right through the lower left section of her torso. I think something vital is there.

Um…well, she's still alive (somehow), so let's see if we can do something about this.

"The two of you, get that corpse out of here." I order while getting a metal washbasin. "Last thing I need is more contaminants in here."

"Aye." Guard B says readily and carry the corpse out with Guard A.

 _When out of our earshot, Guard A asks B a question. "Can we really trust him with this?"_

 _"If he wants to try, then it's his problem." Guard B replies with a shrug as they toss the body out of the back door. "Besides, it's that healer living in the Clover. He's pretty good."_

 _"Yeah…yeah." Guard A nods to make himself feel better. "Besides, Saffir's tough. She's practically a half-orc."_

 _"She'll kill you if she heard that." Guard B chuckles._

Ok…let's see. Where do I begin? Let's…first take stock of the situation.

Saffir's been bleeding for an unknown amount of time, to the point where, by all rights, she should have died. She's wounded in many areas, badly wounded in many areas, and has a near-fatal injury in one part of her body. She's likely lost a lot of blood, and I don't even know how oxygen deprived her brain has been for the past…well I mean, if she's still alive she should be fine, right?

Hmm…well, the body dies when it gets so out of balance it stops being able to…er…balance. The first thing I have to do is…to keep the brain from dying. To do that, I need to make sure it has oxygen.

Normally…what happens normally? The bloodstream carries oxygen into the brain area and it…does weird biology things and good things happen. For this to work, I would need to have her lungs and her veins…and her heart…to work.

…yeah that's not happening. What else can I do?

Um…

…Well, I _just_ need to get oxygen to her brain, right? In that case, I have other ways of doing this.

 _We set a pair of soul stones near her head._

As long as I'm using a spell, I can use soul stones to help channel those spells as if I was enchanting. The spell gets burned and used, but so long as energy is provided they can cast for me. In this case, I put a switching type effect into the first gem and extra energy into the second one.

While switching materials is technically a perk and not a spell, the perk's effects still cause a spell reaction (in the same way that, say, the Voice of the Emperor racial trait causes a Charm spell reaction in Oblivion). Since the reaction is a spell, I can then put it into a soulstone for a reduced effect.

In this case, the perk is collecting oxygen from the surrounding atmosphere and is directly injecting it into the blood that goes into the brain (wherever it may be). It's not great, but it should at least keep her brain sustained for a while.

Next…what should I do next? Um…

I need…to start repairing damage. Let's start with…uh…the parts that are the most peripheral to the body's functionality. So, first up, the circulatory system.

 _We begin to pump magic power into her entire body and throughout her slowly congealing bloodstream._

 _…_

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Outside, the two guards responsible for disposing the body had rounded the corner on the house and were in the front.

"Yo." The front guard greets the two of them. "How's Saffir?"

Amren, sitting with his head buried in his face, perks up slightly.

"That Clover healer is looking at her right now." Guard B says calmly. "We'll know by the end of the day."

 _One way or another._ Guard A adds mentally. "Amren, how do you feel?" He asks.

"I'll live." Amren sighs. "What happened?"

"What we think happened align with your story, Amren." Guard B says. "Seems like this was done by that dead Redguard and his friends. We'll see if we can get some information out of the one we captured, but I won't be surprised if they're looking for Saadia."

"But…Saadia's at the Bannered Mare." Amren says in slight disbelief. "Not my house. Why come to my home?"

Guard A rolls a small medal around his finger. "I got this off of the dead guy." He says. "It doesn't look like the ones the visitors to the Bannered Mare had. My bet's that there are multiple groups working here, and not all of them are smart." He shows the medal to Amren.

Amren stares at the medal as if it was responsible for everything that had happened. As far as Amren knew, it was.

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

…Whew. Ok. Pumping magic through her veins isn't giving me any other significant issues, so most of the major problems should be patched. Next…

…Motherfuck. I forgot something very important.

 _We set another pair of soulstones for Healing To Immunity._

I need her immunities at full blast, especially since it looks like she's stopped breathing. Doesn't matter too much, I don't think, since we're basically keeping her alive as a brain jar right now. This will definitely cause problems down the line, but we can cross those bridges when we get to them.

What's next…

…I need to fix her internal organs. Or at least check to see if internal organs need fixing (they probably do). I should…start from the least critical components and move inwards? Start from the most critical and move outwards?

Let's do it from the bottom up. We'll finish with the heart and lungs.

…Let's also prepare the rest of my soulstones to help keep each organ oxygenated and functional. Whatever the fuck that means.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

As Ash continues to feel his way through Skyrim's first magically assisted surgery, Healer Danica Purespring arrives at the front of Amren's house along with a young orc and Braith in tow.

"Dad!" Braith yells as she sees Amren hunched and sitting. "Are you ok?!"

Amren leaps to his feet. "Braith!" Braith leaps into his arms. "Daddy's ok. Daddy's ok." He pats his daughter on the back softly. "Can you wait for daddy here?" He says.

Braith nods and let go of Amren's hand. "Can I go home?" She asks the guard standing at the threshold of her doorstop. "I want to see mommy."

Guard A feels his heart tighten. "Your mother is sleeping. Don't wake her." He says and gives Braith a gentle but nevertheless stopping hand. "I'm sorry, but you really should wait here."

"…ok." Braith leans against the wall and tried to find interesting things to look for in the dirt near her feet.

Amren, upon letting Braith go, rushes right over to Danica. "I-is she ok?" He asks and grasps her hand. "She hasn't been hurt or anything, right?" He couldn't see anything wrong with his little girl, but…

"Braith is alright." Danica smiles. "A few minor cuts but nothing else." She chose not to mention the bits of metal she had to dig from her arm, an all-too-common result of being cut by badly maintained swords.

Amren breathes out. "Great. That's wonderful." He looks around, relieved. "C-Can you go and check on the condition of my wife? A Healer's already in there, but I'd feel much better if it was a true healer from Kynereth, rather than…well…I'm sure he means well, but…" He trails off as his emotions fight each other for the best words to use.

"Let us see." Danica says and makes a beckoning motion to the orc. The two of them make their way to the window looking into Amren's bedroom. She takes one look through the dusty and slightly warped glass and smiles.

"Something wrong?" Guard A asks slowly.

"Hardly." Danica's smile tempers itself a little. "Haskar." She says. "Pay attention." She gestures into the room and leans to the orc. "Watch closely."

Haskar narrows his eyes and peers through the glass. Inside, the man had arranged a series of stones around the woman on the bed, and had the glow of Healing Hands around his palms. Haskar could not help but roll his eyes. Just Healing Hands? Any cleric worth his salt in the Temple of Kynereth knows _Healing Hands._ He was a little disappointed that the great Danica Purespring would put that much stock in some third-rate healer from out of nowhere, especially when the healer doesn't appear to be anything of interest.

…Haskar takes a moment to rein himself in. Danica was—is—a good judge of character, and this was definitely a healer that had Danica's attention. Regardless of his own thoughts on the matter, Haskar figured that he should still focus and see what can be learned from this situation. He returns his attention to the healer's hands.

The Healing glow in the man's hands were…smaller, than he remembered. For the sake of comparison, he casts Healing Hands himself and sees the extremely large glow around his own hand. The aura around the man's hand was near nonexistent.

Haskar, now intrigued, enters the house for the closer look. Ash's Healing Hands had an illumination radius the size of his palm, and, as Haskar watches from the shadows, the glow was steadily shrinking. _How's he doing that?_ He can't help but wonder. In no time, the illumination shrinks to the size of Ash's fingers as he traced his way over the organs beneath him.

Ash's inner thoughts: _I have no idea what I'm doing but I think I'm doing good things._ Or something to that effect.

For the next two hours, Haskar watches Ash slowly sow together Saffir's insides without really understanding what's going on.

…

[1st Person Camera, two hours later]

…

Ok. Whew. Jesus. This was hard. My hands hurt. Ow.

 _We shake out our hands with absolutely no knowledge that we're being watched by Haskar, who's standing a little beyond our range of vision (should we turn around)._

I think that about covers it for her organs. I'm currently spending 40 petty soul stones to keep her insides stabilized and I think this is a terrible way to do things moving forward.

Regardless, all I have to do now is to restore her heart and then…make a prayer to the right gods that all this works out, I suppose.

Let's do this.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Amren watches Ash work from the windows along with Danica. "Are you sure about this?" He asks her. "I would much rather have your expertise in there."

"Calm your worries." Danica soothes Amren. "That man is one of the finest healers I know."

Amren was not quite convinced. "Is Saffie going to be ok?" He asks insistently.

Danica knew what he was really asking. "We healers cannot do the impossible." She says soothingly. "In a situation like this, all you can do is to pray to the Eight that they give your wife grace. If it helps, you can pray now for their guidance."

"I…alright." Amren finds a place nice to sit and does so. Braith walks over to her father, and both of them offer what prayers they could to the Nine that everything goes well.

Danica makes a prayer as well, though of a different kind. She knew from personal experience that what Ash was trying to do had an astoundingly low success rate, and had hedged her bet by recommending him without stepping in herself. This way, his success would reflect well upon her judgment of character, and his failure would harm only her reputation rather than the reputation of the temple.

As such, Danica prayed to Kynereth that Ash's healing goes well, if only to sooth her own sense of discomfort at throwing him to the proverbial wolves.

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

 _It is now dusk._

I've done all I can. Now for the final step.

Ok…what goes first? Blood, right? If the heart ain't pumping then the rest of the system won't be working.

 _We charge some Shock onto our hands. Haskar, still watching and undetected, nearly break his detection to stop us._

One quick jolt to the heart in three…two…

 _ZAP._

Her body jumps and flexes. My hands are telling me that the heart is beating. The blood is moving…let's pump some magic into the veins and move the blood along…more…more…

…Lungs have restarted, she is breathing. She is breathing! I hope she doesn't suddenly turn into a zombie and bite me on the neck but otherwise she is breathing!

Magic sense…heart is moving normally, lungs are coming close to normal, circulation is being restored. Ok. Whew. Good. Fuck. Jesus.

I'm tired.

Let's take her off of life support, one set of stones at a time.

 _So we do, slowly, over the course of the next hour._

The pancreas bone is connected to the…kidney bone.

The kidney bone is connected to the…stomach bone.

The stomach bone is connected to the…bone bone.

The bone bone is…hm. Her appendix is a little weird. Let's see if we can do something about it before it explodes.

 _We blast some magic into Saffir's appendix, clearing it up without issue. The active mind never finds out that the reason she had an appendix issue (something like appendicitis) was because we had placed her under magical life support._

The bone bone is connected to the…Blood bone.

 _We continue to butcher that song as we take Saffir off of life support one stone at a time._

 _…_

[The end of the hour]

…

All soulstones are hereby disconnected. Saffir is breathing normally.

She groans…in a good way. Not in a zombie way. The first time I saw a zombie in Oblivion I freaked the fuck out, and I was like sixteen. I am rambling because I am tired.

"By Kynereth." I hear someone say and how long has that person been there?

 _We notice Haskar six hours after he entered the house. He actually left for a sandwich and we never noticed him leaving or coming back, or chewing._

Oh my god. "Hello." I greet…him? Her? It's hard to tell with the lighting and the fact that he/she/it has a hood over their head.

"Temple Master!" The…orc? He sounds orc-y. Says. "Amren! Saffir has awakened!" He rushes out in a hurry.

…Was she dead? Oh god, did I just commit necromancy? Necromancy is legal in Skyrim, though, so I should be ok. I should get a set of robes with skulls painted on them.

There's some hubbub outside, and Amren comes in to the room and uh…when did I throw up magelights? The room is very bright and I don't remember doing this.

 _Haskar threw up the lights when it was getting dark. We, as you can see, did not notice._

Anyways, Amren charges into the room, freeze upon seeing Saffir sit up weakly, gives me a look of…I don't know what, and then oh my god

 _He gives us a bear hug._

He's also crying on my shoulder. A grown man is crying on my shoulder and I don't know what to do somebody help

 _We weakly give him some pats on the back._

He's crying rather hard on my shoulder. Sir. Sir? Sir! SIR

…

After about five minutes of him just crying his eyes out on my shoulder (my shirt's soaked) he finally let go. Saffir's status seems more or less stable, as judged by Danica Purespring, and so I'm cleared to go. Why didn't she just come in and help? I could've used a set of expert hands.

As I leave, their little girl accosts me. "Thank you for saving my mom." She…Braith? Says. She introduced herself to me like a minute ago and I've half forgotten.

"I did what I could." I say truthfully. "She's the strong one."

Whew.

 _Saffir would be physically weak for the next six months or so before making a full recovery._

…

When I get home, the two girls leap up and clutch at my pants. I feel bad.

I give them a hug. "Were you lonely?" Big sister nods furiously. I feel really bad. "I'm sorry. Something came up and I couldn't step away."

As soon as I say that, there's a knock at my door. The two girls would not let go (though they have moved to clutching my shirt instead of my pants), so I don't have a choice but to open the door while trailing my girls.

 _Huh._

They're my girls now. I have claimed ownership.

Anyways, at my door is Jake. Jake and…company. A lot of company. Wow.

In the front row are Jake, Erik, and a very pissed off Mell. Behind them is a quad of four…um. They're basically quadruplets. They all have pink(ish) hair. They all have cat ears. They are all…hot. Like…Aria-level hot.

…ok, not quite Aria-level hot. Still, what gives? Like, either Jake found out how to use a mod manager while inside the game or else he's being hunted by quadruplet succubi, and for some reason I consider both of those options to be realistic and viable.

I don't know what's going on. "You went to kill wolves and came back with…what?"

"Dude, I know." Jake sighs. "It's a long story. How's your day?"

Well…

I mean…

Jake killed some wolves and returned with a 400% increase to his harem.

I saved a mother's life.

Hmm. "All things considered I think I had a decent enough day. What gives?"

Jake, maybe embarrassed, launches directly into the reason why he's here. "We have a contract to find and maybe kill a bunch of Redguards. You in?"

…Yes, tentatively. "As soon as you explain why you suddenly have a girl group backing you up." I say.

"Funny story." Jake says with a nervous grin. "Let's go to the HQ." The HQ being, of course, the home base of the Warwolves.

So…yeah. Let's.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes: This feels like a good way to mesh together Sadia and Amren's minor quests.

Also: I would 100% mod in a troop of eerily identical hot anime girls for the sake of…

of…

…actually, pretend I never said anything.


	12. The Meeting New People Experience

{ === + === }

So.

 _We have arrived at the rather underfurnished headquarters of the Warwolf Mercenary Company._

Let's say that the entrance is south, and you go north to enter the building. The layout is as thus: the entrance leads to a waiting room, which leads to a bigger great hall. North of the great hall is the kitchen area, where food will be prepared if we have any…do I have to cook? East and West of the hall are a set of stairs and rooms on their own. The east is the armory, and the west is pretty much an open access to my shop. We're thinking of fencing off the connection to have some more space. Also to the great hall's east and west are a pair of staircases leading to the underground level, which contains two barracks-style rooms. For some reason we have twenty bedframes and like, no beds.

…I guess the reason would be we never bought bedding material, but eh…

Anyways, me, Jake, Erik, Mell, and the four Pink Anime Catgirls enter the great hall and take seats around the table. The maid (I guess Jake hired one) serves us tea. Probably also a cook too.

…Not sure I like barley tea.

Anyways. "First off, who are you people?" I ask the Pink Anime Catgirls. Seriously they all look the same. It's freaking me out.

Girl A starts with a small bow. "I am T'Mare. These are my younger sisters, T'Ma, T'nerem, and T'yanna." She gestures to the girls in turn and they bow. I, for the life of me, cannot tell them apart. Also, I think I hear a T followed by a click, and I know I will get the names wrong.

"You're all sisters?" Jake asks for confirmation.

"We are of the same brood." T'Mare nods. "As you can see, we are of Khajiit descent."

…I don't see it. I don't think any of us sees it. Well, I mean, ok, they have the ears, but…

Oh, also. Their ears are very cat-like in behavior: whenever one of us spoke, the four of them would turn their ears our way without really looking our way. When the cook (or maid) messes with a pot in the kitchen, one of them would rotate their ears towards the source of the sound like a cat.

Still. "I don't see the resemblance." I say. "Sorry for being blunt about it."

"It's understandable." T'Mare says levelly, though she's probably not happy about what I said. I wish I could see their tails. If they have any.

 _Brief, uncomfortable silence._

So…"Do you guys plan to say anything about how you got to, y'know, look this way?" On one hand that is an incredibly insensitive question, on the other hand I seem to be holding that role this night, so…

"It is private." T'Mare snaps at me. Minor note: she has that little raspiness going on with her voice that all Khajiit seems to have.

Also, private? Hmm.

Well, then let's start doing some guess work.

Fact number one: the four of them share an appearance. Reasons: Either Khajiit families bear their children in broods, or else the four of them were a rare quadruplet occurrence who also happen to be cursed at the same time.

…I can believe the cursing, but not the quadruplet thing.

 _While we're reasoning in our head, our eyes are resting on T'Ma. After some time, she may or may not be progressively more interested in ripping off our face with her bare hands._

Hmm. "Well, if you're not going to tell me, then I'm going to tell myself." I stretch. "The four of you are sisters, yeah?"

"That's right." T…which one? The third one from the left says. "We are of the same family."

 _It is T'nerem._

"Ok, so the same brood…ish." I can't really say conclusively either way. "And…the folks in your home think you've all been cursed and that your continued existence would be a problem, therefore they kicked you out."

 _Momentary silence._

"That's…awfully specific." Erik says with a nervous chuckle.

"How did you know that?" The T on the right says. "Have we met before?"

 _T'yanna._

T'Mare gives the girl a glare, which I take to mean that I'm right enough on the money.

Let's continue under that assumption. "Bingo, huh? So that means you girls are in Skyrim…looking for work?"

T'Mare heaves a defeated sigh. "That's correct." I'm glad my love of tropes won out like this. "But as you are undoubtedly aware, work for a Khajiit is hard to come by, nevermind for a half-breed."

Noted. "Really? Hair color aside, I think you girls could pose as humans fairly easily."

"You think so?" Girl #2 (from the left) seems very…brightened, by the idea. Her ears flip up in interest.

…I am now very aware that all of them have the same 'Khajiit rasp' in their voice, that might make blending in a touch hard. "For better or worse, we tolerate you." I say. "So…tell me. How did you all meet Jake?"

…

[Exposition]

…

Hmm. Well, it's pretty straightforward. The four of them are of the same clan, and were branded as cursed because of their appearance and hair coloration. Normally, half-breeds tend to be predominantly Khajiit or human with none of the secondary specie traits appearing, so the four of them showing both traits was already unusual. And then the hair color pretty much sealed the deal.

Fortunately for them, their parents are fairly prestigious, and thus instead of being summarily executed they were merely exiled from their homes. However, because their parents were fairly prestigious, the entirety of the Elswyr populace knew who they were, and thus they had to leave the region, rather than just the city.

…well, _recommended_ to leave. They could have stayed and duked it out if they wanted to, but they didn't, so…

Anyways, they went to Morrowind first, had no real luck, then came to Skyrim. They were in Falkreath before coming up north through Whiterun, and had been chased to the farm that was Jake's mission by a group of slaver bandits. Jake and Erik corroborated the story from there and…well, here we are.

"Perversely, I rather liked that kind of attention." T'Mare laughs of her journeys. "But…in the end, travel is difficult without food or coin, and the Guildmaster has deigned to give us a warm bed for the night." She nods, rather subserviently, to Jake.

…She says she's twenty, but that rasp is making her sound so much older. It's messing with my mind.

"We'd be glad to give him some other services too." Girl #4 ( _T'yanna_ ) giggles. "He only has to ask."

Mell bristles. I roll my eyes. Erik may as well be salivating with sadness, if that's ever a possible thing.

"That may be." Jake says levelly. "Understand that I'm of the same mind as Ash, which is that I…we…don't trust you all that much."

"Not because you're Khajiit, mind." I add. It's funny, they look at Jake like he's the messiah and me as…markedly not. "The four of you are attractive, but the fact that the four you just appeared out of nowhere and all look extremely alike is…very worrying."

"Rest assured we mean you no harm." T'Mare says with an eyeroll. "I understand that our appearance seems too unreasonable to be a coincidence, but…well, it is."

…Humans pick patterns out of coincidences, yes. "I will be cautiously optimistic." I nod. "Well, I'll go get stuff for your bedding." I stand, my girls stand with me. "Stay with uncle Jake, you two." I say gently.

"I'll help." Erik shoots up to his feet. The two of us head out and visit a farmer who is selling hay a little deeper in the Clover. It takes us a while, but eventually we get the bundles of hay back into the guild to build four more beds.

 _So…_

To put it politely, everything here worries me. I think I'm just being paranoid.

…

[Next Day]

…

Whether it's because I was more worried than normal or for some other reason, I woke up early today. Which meant I get to spend some more time at my forge. I'm not really doing anything, mind, just focused on my UI.

The Surgery yesterday gave me a grand total of 134 points to spend, but also turned the entire UI red. I'm trying to figure out what the sudden change in color means before I start spending the points.

Moreover, my mana seems to have entirely emptied and is not recovering (again). It's weird, because I'm pretty sure I didn't spend my pool putting Saffir together.

Either way, I have a lot of points to spend, and so I'm going to take my time and think about it.

 _So what's actually happening?_

I'm being blocked from taking minor perks and it's very detrimental to the path of becoming a walking deity. It sucks.

…I can take major perks though, and I have seven of them.

Let's see.

I take Greatest Crafting support (double crafting xp, half all other xp) and realize just how much experience I would have gotten if I went pure mage. Like, fuck, if I got 134 points while receiving 25% of total xp gained with magic…but that's a what-if.

Finishing the crafting master tree gives me…nothing. Why nothing? Jake had…Jake had a finishing effect after taking a secondary tree.

Hmm.

…

I take three ranks (Great/Greater/Greatest) of Forge Master. The three ranks in total "increase crafting result" by 50% (10, 15, 25 per step). I don't know what it means but on the surface it looks promising. Having my stuff be 50% better is usually not a bad thing.

But more importantly, taking Forge master gave me THREE finishing effects!

First one: Elemental Forgemaster. Which…the wording tripped me up, but by the looks of it…the equipment that I craft will lose enchantment at half speed. By which I think it means that if I were to, say, make a ring, and somebody else (say, Aria) enchants that ring, then the ring will lose power at half speed. Neat, though likely not very useful.

Second one: Deep Forge. This perk lets me burn ingots to improve the results of metal items. There's no numerical value given, but I assume the conversion rate has a decreasing rate of return. I hope this at least translates to better weapon durability because I think I would cry if I spent a hundred ingots in a dwarven dagger and it explodes on contact with a dragon.

Third, and probably the most broken of the bunch: Pocket Weaver. This one has the simplest explanation and is probably the most _fucked up powerful_ boost of the bunch. It simply says: crafted gear gains 1 more enchant slot.

I went giddy when I saw that, not gonna lie. I'm going to experiment with stacking two of the same enchant on an item to see what happens. If it doesn't work I'm gonna be slightly sad, but not very. Because we're friends with Aria, and Aria is the dragonborn.

The Dragonborn's final enchantment tree perk adds another enchant slot onto all items she works on (if the game information remains accurate) so anything I give to Aria to enchant will have three enchants. _Eeeeeeeeeeeee_ I am so looking forward to this

…If I can get Aria to go down that path. If I can find Aria at all. Where the fuck is she? I hate being an NPC sometimes.

But um, Elemental Forgemaster required Forge Master and Magicka Breathing. Deep Forge needed Forge Master and Combat Support (I expected a finishing effect for this combo, though not Deep Forge specifically). Pocket Weaver needed Forge Master, Magic Channeling, Infusion, and Combat Support. Understandable considering how bonkers it is.

And I still have three major slots...although…

 _We scan the trait tree again._

…is it just me, or do I have more stuff here than before? And some of these seem really shifty. Am I starting to get into min-max territory? Let's avoid taking min-max perks to help continue being able to do everything.

…Ooh, I like the look of these. It's two ranks, so let's take 'em.

 _So we do._

I have just taken the perks 'Objective Endurance', of the minor and major flavors. Both grants a 25% bonus to "crafting result range", which I take to mean that the thing I make can be…shittier, or better, depending on circumstance.

This gives me more incentive to become better at what I do regardless of my perk and major perk strengths, because if I fuck up now I _really_ fuck up.

…which means I just lied and took a min-max perk. Oopsy daisies.

 _As we plan out our Major perks and minor perks, T'Mare exits the Warwolf guild hall through the side door._

"Good morning, guildmaster Ash." She says…stiffly. Also, what?

"Beg pardon?"

"I heard from Jake that you are the co-head of the guild and share in its responsibilities." She bows slightly. "While I do not like you, I do at least respect your position."

Girl number…I don't know, follows her eldest sister. "Yeah, if you play your cards right then you'll be half as cool as the real guildmaster." She says with a wink.

Ha. "Am I being mocked?"

"Oh good, you picked up on it." Girl…a third one, says with a smirk.

Ok yeah this is not going to work for me.

 _We go into our house, get four large strips of cloth, and dye them the proper colors._

I can't use magic, but it's good to know the perks work at least.

"What are those for?" Girl 4 asks.

It should be pretty obvious. "Y'all look the same to me and I can only tell slight differences after careful scrutiny, so I need to do this to tell you girls apart." I show them the four ribbons. "Also I don't really remember names, so this will help. I'll make you the bells later."

T'Mare folds her arms. "Are we being mocked?"

"Yes." I grin. "Here you go." I give her a blue ribbon. "You can wear it however, as long as it's visible."

"Well, th-oh my." She changes her tune as soon she puts her hands on the ribbon. "This is incredibly soft." She gathers her hair into a side-tail and wow she is good at that

 _She works the foot-or-longer ribbon into her hair in into a trio of crosses (from our viewpoint). It's too short for her to do anything else, so there's a half-inch or so left over that dangles in an unfortunately jarring way._

I should have some scissors around here.

"Which one's mine?" Girl…three? Says. Stop moving around, jeez. She seems to be the funny one.

"This one's for you." I give her the orange ribbon.

She rubs it on her face. "Ooh, they really are soft." She ties hers around her neck.

 _It resembles bell and ribbon, and she's like doubly cuter as a result._

"How are these made?" Girl…two? Four? Asks, examining the ribbons in closer detail.

Of course, I'm not going to just tell her. "Trade secret." I hand her the purple ribbon and she wears it around her waist, tying it off to one side in a pretty-looking tie.

 _Full disclosure: the ribbons are not all of the same length._

"I'm last, then?" Girl…last one, holds out her hand. She gets the last, red, ribbon, and ties it roughly around her right hand. "Thanks." She says tersely, but sincerely. It looks a little like boxing tape.

 _No points for guessing why we used those colors. What are those ribbons, anyway?_

They're a mix of silk and velvet that I made with transmutation before yesterday. I wanted a material I could use to make better dresses with and this was a…not a _great_ result but also not a bad one. There wasn't enough material to make anything specific, so I figured that tearing it down for ribbons seems like a good use of the material.

I have enough for two more, smaller, ribbons. They're both dyed sky blue, because I like sky blue, and practically glow in sunlight because I Replaced a little wax into the material.

Speaking of which, Big Sister is staring at T'Mere's ribbon while hiding behind a…darling get out from there you don't know where it's been

 _She's hiding behind the pile of dragonbones._

"What's on your mind, little one?" T'Mere notices the attention and smiles warmly at Big Sister. "Do you like this ribbon?" She asks. Big Sis nods slowly but shies deeper into the pile of dragonbones.

"Don't hide in the dragonbones." I cut in. "It's bad for your health. Come here, girls."

Big Sister takes the long way around the dragonbone pile (away from T'Mere) and jumps into my arms. Little Sister is remarkably less reserved and cut a path right through the four T-sisters before oh shit

 _She jumps into us at a run and we all fall down._

Owie.

Let's see here… "T'Mare, come here for a sec. I could use some advice on how to do their hair." I have no idea how to handle a girl's hair so…yeah. I've only ever brushed their hair.

"Aye." T'Mare replies with a very overt laugh. "You struck me as many things, but a doting father isn't one of them." She comes over. "They are very well-kempt." She remarks as she looks over the girls. "I've never seen any of the working caste as clean as this. You're no mere smith, are you?" She takes one of the ribbons I have reserved for the girls and look over Big Sister.

"I do many things." I say as T'Mare gets to work. "What was Jake's final decision?"

"We're employed with Warwolf as…'interns'?" T'Mare says. "We're going to accompany him on the next mission."

First: Ahahaha they're unpaid interns. Second: "The one where you go off to find some redguards?"

"That's the one." T'yanna (Orange) nods.

Hm. "And I assume you all will be needing gear?"

"Is it going to be expensive?" T'Nerem (Purple) asks. "At this point, we don't have much money."

"We don't have _any_ money." T'yanna corrects her. "And I'm pretty sure you're not going to accept a rowdy night in exchange." She is suddenly genuinely curious. "…would you?"

I assume she means sex. "No."

"Bah." T'yanna pretends to be disappointed.

I am curious though. "Is that how you girls got around?"

"Occasionally." T'Ma (red) nods. "You'd be surprised how much money we could make by spreading our legs once in a while." Considering the derisiveness of her tone, I assume it's not nearly as straightforward as that.

The more important question is, though… "So what kind combat experience do the four of you have?"

 _Awkward silence._

Well balls.

"We can strike a man when he's unprepared." T'Ma says with confidence. "We may not have a Khajiit's claws, but our nails are hard enough."

Hm.

"To speak frankly, I am not sure we will be of much service in an offensive role." T'Mare says. "I've hunted with a bow, but…"

Hoo boy. Jake's got his work cut out for him.

"…Finished." T'Mare says and lets Big Sister go. She gave Big Sister a ponytail, with the ribbon acting as the tie and bow. It's very conspicuous…and very cute. I approve. I should redo this but with a much more anime-sized ribbon. One that's like twice the size of her head.

 _I get to the know the combat records of the four T-sisters as T'Mare does Little Sister's hair. It is not very impressive._

Between the four of them, they have, at best, a dozen kills. It seems that most of their survival strategy relied on hiding and being away from points of danger, which…all things considered is the best course of action in like 99% of the time.

 _T'Mare is finished._

Little Sister has less hair, so her ribbon ends up being used as decoration for a pair of braids that frame her face. It's a little bit asymmetric, which just makes her cuter.

"Their hair is extremely easy to work with." T'Mare observes when she finishes. "You'd never think they would be the children of a working man."

Hehehe.

…Anyhoo.

We do our daily work (with the T-Sisters going back to the guild), and come the afternoon the T-Girls + Mell + Jake visit my workshop. Why as a group though?

 _Jake brings presents in the form of a sled of iron ingots._

Fuck yeah ingots. "Alright, what am I making?"

Jake grins. "four sets of armor, two shields, four short swords, two great swords, a bow, and a pair of daggers."

…You motherfucker.

 _Jake grins harder upon seeing our expression._

I sigh. "And you need them all by…"

"Tomorrow." Jake winks. "Good luck."

I throw an ingot at him, which he catches with no real issue. Goddamn perks.

Jake got 3 points for his wolf-killing, which he puts into missile awareness for better anti-flying object action. He's also got another 30 points stashed, which I don't remember where he got, but he's got it, and he's holding off on spending it for now.

He does take another major perk (the second level of Appraising Eye) which means he's better at judging items.

"I think it works better if I know more about items in general." He says. "Because right now it doesn't help all that much."

To that end, he's going to go on a tour of the market and just…learn to judge stuff for a day.

Oh well.

Let's see here…

 _We get a rundown of their equipment loadout._

the short swords are standardized equipment for everyone. The great swords are for T-red and T-purple. The shields are for T-orange and T-blue. The bow is for red, and the daggers are for purple.

"Son of a bitch." I sigh. "Ladies, can you go get me some wood? I think Jake forgot." I need wood for the base of the shields. "Also, leather." I don't have enough iron to make a full plate of armor, and frankly I don't have the time if they plan to ship out to-fucking-morrow.

"We don't have money." T'Mare the Blue says. "So…"

I know. "Mell?"

Mell is not too happy that Jake's spending the day with Erik, so she leads the four T-sisters to the shops in the Clover that sells wood and leather with no small amount of grumbling. They bring back enough material and I'm down 150 gold, plus another 50 for Mell's bribe so she'd actually do it.

I don't think I'll be able to make everything by tomorrow, so let's

"Oh, can you make me some more underwear?"

 _Mell says as we're planning things out. She gets a bit of a disbelieving stare shot her way by all of us._

…well, fine. "Uuugh." Or not fine. I'm not sure how I feel about this. "Fine, go get the materials you want it made from."

 _Mell does so and we turn back to our planning._

Ok, so…let's start with the swords. Easiest to mass produce and everyone needs it.

"You make underwear for women?" T'Ma asks judgmentally.

"Sometimes." I say, because that is indeed true. "I don't advertise it. If you want me to make you a set then I'd have to get measurements."

"I'll pass for now, thanks." She says with a small laugh. Note how she's staying well beyond the ten-foot-pole radius of personal touching.

Ok, let's get down to business.

…

[Work, Work]

…

It takes me the whole rest of the day. By bedtime I've finished all the bladed weapons. By dinner time, I've made everything but the armor plus Mell's new undies.

The short swords are bog-standard Iron Short Swords. They're a little stubbier and bluntier compared to a market piece, but I figured if they're going to serve as primarily defensive weapons then they should be on the durable side.

The great swords are a bit claymore-y rather than Skyrim Great Sword-y to save on material. Also the girls requested for a weapon that was easier to swing around. I should note that the girls don't have much arm strength, but their wrist strength is pretty impressive. In that regard, the more flexible claymore should allow them to whip it good on some occasions.

The daggers are good for stabbing and are also point-weighted so they can also be thrown.

The bow…I don't have that kind of experience and I definitely don't have the time to make a crossbow, so I farmed the work out to a bowmaker. I got a modified short bow at the end of the day. It has grips reinforced by a layer of twine so the girls don't dig into the wood with their semi-Khajiit nails.

So much shit I still need to do.

 _And Mell…_

Wanted something that "accentuated her figure", which I take to mean that she's planning on seducing Jake in the near future. We did what we could. The end result is…passably…I mean, it's like looking at a picture of lingerie in low resolution: the idea is there, but the execution is kind of…not.

She brought in some good cloth, but I was kind of hoping for something that was of higher quality.

Well, whatever. After dinner I need to hammer out the parts for the armor. I farmed out the armor manufacturing and got back four crude but serviceable suits of leather, so all I need to do is to adjust them to the girls' size and reinforce them with iron, and then I'll be set.

I'll be doing this tomorrow, when we're setting out on our mission, because of course we will be.

Ugh.

…Also, I didn't gem any of the weapons because I didn't feel a need to. Also because I can't find my jewelry box today and wasn't very interested in trying.

 _We found it sitting on the bed when going to sleep. The girls were playing with it._

…

[Next Day]

…

We set off! By we, I mean: Jake, Erik, Mell, Myself, my girls, and the T-sisters. We rented a cart and two horses. Jake and T-Blue walks, Erik drives the cart, and the rest of us are being carried by said cart.

 _Why are the girls here?_

Given the current circumstances (read: they can't talk) it seems dangerous to leave them at home by themselves. I've shown them the basics of working with bandages and they, like everyone in Skyrim, innately knows fire magic, so they'll be able to do some basic prep work for me if I need to, say, heal literally everyone.

…Please don't make me heal everyone.

…Anyways, we're travelling by wagon to a small village between Rorikstead and Whiterun. It's…somewhat southwest of the fortress that you'd hit if you follow the road forever. Apparently the Redguards are holed up nearby. By "The" Redguards, I assume the post implies 'some' Redguards, since, again, there seems to be multiple groups at work here.

"It's a fine day to travel, isn't it?" T'Mare says. It is overcast and very depressing, but she sounds genuinely happy, so I don't know if I should take her words at face value.

"Better than if it snowed." Jake nods. There's still some snow on the road and the surrounding grasslands, which just means we have a lot of mud to deal with. I've modded the wheels by hammering in larger pieces of wood for better force dispersion, so we're not losing too much time to the mud

 _The wagon wheel hits a rock._

Fuck

Ow

I also need to make seat cushions because _this shit_ just hurts way too much. My tailbone is not in the best shape from sitting down forever in many different locations.

Anyhoo. The girls' armor. Since we're on the march, I don't have the time to fully measure the T-sisters. As a result, the leather armor's strappier than normal so they can adjust it after fitting. I'm thinking of making further adjustments are we go along, but…actually.

"Jake, why the hurry?" I really should have asked this question before we left Whiterun.

"Apparently, the Redguards are worried." Jake says. "According to the ones they've arrested, the main groups are planning on moving very soon, so it's in our coffer's best interest to hit them hard before the time runs out."

Eeh…in other words, there's a substantial bonus for capturing them and he doesn't want to miss out. "You sure about this?" I jerk a thumb to T-Orange. I don't remember their names very well, if you can't tell already.

 _She goes "hey!"_

Jake shrugs. "I was planning on heading out regardless of the situation, so having a bunch of tagalong girls doesn't change things."

Wow, ego much, sir? I mean, he's earned it, but still.

…

[Travelling]

…

At noon, we break for lunch. It wasn't really noticeable from the beginning, but the road conditions are poor enough that we've lost a rather substantial amount of time overall. Also the walkers are tired and are on the cart again, which makes it slower still.

Anyways, we break for lunch. Jake takes this time to get the girls used to live combat.

So, I've been giving this some thought. It seemed rather odd that the T-sisters, who have supposedly spent their _entire lives_ on the run, would be noticeably less skilled in combat than Erik, who…comparatively speaking, has not spent as much of his time being screwed by the gods. I mean, yes, they have been hiding/running, but skills gained from staying out of danger would still be skills.

"I uh…Rorikstead sees a lot of mercenaries pass through, so I'd bother them to teach me a few things when I was younger." Erik explains sheepishly when I bring this point up. "But yeah, I do find that weird, too."

"Not all vagabonds spend their time flitting about the wilderness, Erik." T-purple says. "We spent a few times camping out between towns, but…" She points to her hair. "Being out in the wilderness means we let our guards down more."

…and that's all she said. I assume it means something to the effect of "we fucked up a few times and learned our lesson." By that logic, they stay as close to the towns as possible and only escape when detected? But if that's the case, then they should still be pretty good at putting a knife where it hurts…

Anyways, they're…well, let's be fair here. They're not totally novices when it comes to wielding their weapons, but they're definitely not great. T-orange and T-blue gets shields, T-red and T-orange get greatswords, and T-purple gets the bow and daggers.

Their party is as thus: T'Mare the Blue is the Defensive frontliner. Her job is to be uninspiring with a shield and sword and hold the enemy at bay forever. She shares this job with Erik.

T'Ma the Red is the Damage output. Her job is to swing that claymore around and be mini-Jake.

T'yanna the Orange is the Gadget Fighter. Her job is to either help T'Mare and Erik to hold a front line, or else to flank and be mini-Jake with T'Ma.

T'nerem the Purple is the Stealth Archer minus the Stealth part. Her job is to be uninspiring with her bow and deal entirely subpar amounts of damage because she doesn't get Stealth bonuses like the dragonborn does.

Anyways, Jake puts everyone through their paces, because that's what he wanted and frankly we all could use the practice. The focus is still to get the T-sisters used to fighting, so that's what he's doing.

…

[T'Mare and T'yanna]

…

As defensive frontliners (technically) the two of them have the job of maintaining a line that the enemy cannot cross. Both of them have a strong sense of balance and are therefore very good at redirecting power. Jake made some rather strong swings against them and they were able to keep on their feet afterwards.

Their problem, though…

 _We watch as Jake makes a chain of hits against T'yanna and knock her down with his sheathed great sword. He finishes her off with a light tap to her head._

They're very reliant on their shield and have a tendency to put their weight on their back foot, which could cause trouble later on. They're also very keen on not attacking, though I feel like it's more because Jake is scary than anything else.

 _Jake swaps himself out for Erik. He faces off against T'Mare and T'yanna with a wooden club, and after a little bit of scuffling 'kills' both of them._

…Yeah, they don't really have a good attacking sense. This could be trouble.

…

[T'Ma]

…

She's the vanguard, so it's her job to hit for like a million points of damage. Jake puts out a piece of lumber to test that fact.

 _T'Ma stands a good twenty paces from her target. Upon Jake's "Go!" she charges with her sword. She thrusts, misses, trips over the wood, and flails ahead for ten steps or so before regaining her balance._

…she can't really hit for a million points of damage. Her aim is good when she's not charging, but uh…yeah.

As a result, Jake just has her practice some charging strikes.

…

[T'yanna, again]

…

As a gadget fighter, it's her job to also use the claymore. Her grip strength is impressive, so she can actually one-hand her claymore. For the record, T'Ma could also one-hand her claymore, but she's all for damage, so she can't take the accuracy hit…not that she has the spare room for it.

T'yanna puts the claymore over her shoulder and uses it for primarily downward swings. Thus, she has great reach while also shielding up, but uh…the shield restricts her movement, and downward swings get predictable after the first one, so she's extremely predictable.

Either way, Jake has her practicing some strikes just to get used to the feel of the sword.

…

[T'nerem]

…

As the archer, her job is to hit the target. She can hit a nonmoving target without issue, and her cat-balance is good enough that moving and shooting results only in a slight loss of accuracy.

…So Jake throws her against me to practice against moving targets. She has ten wrapped arrows, and I have a hat to protect my face. It doesn't protect my face.

 _Jake gives us fifty step's worth of distance._

I cross and hit her, I win. She hits me, she wins. I'm not allowed to use magic (I got my juice back after a day of rest, though the UI is still red). Without magic, I'm basically a subpar melee unit with no advantages and a malus of being insta-gibbed by magic. I should have rebuilt my crossbow.

…Oh well.

Either way, T'nerem isn't the best shot, but I think I can see why. Her aim is great if she can plant her feet and fire, and it's still great if she has to turn a little. If she has to turn a lot her aim greatly suffers, and the more I make her make upper body motions the worse her aim gets.

 _So…_

Obviously this isn't the best or even the actual solution, but…

"Do you girls not wear bras?" I think I noticed them bouncing, but since all of yesterday and today were spent making sure my work got done…I didn't pay them too much attention.

"Nobody is willing to make them for us." T'Mare says. "We're…well," She gives her chest a soft pat. "Also not exactly normal in that regard."

…That's actually a good point. "Mell, can you take their measurements for me real quick?" I ask and get out the cloth.

…

[An hour of sewing passes]

…

I make bras for the T-sisters. They are…not really reinforced, per se, but I've put extra material into making sure they keep in place. Knowing their measurements also means I get to adjust their armor to be a bit more snug, so they don't have to spend extra energy unnecessarily.

"This is so nice." T'yanna says while fondling herself. "It's so warm."

Good. "I'm glad you like it."

"I had you pegged for a craftsman." T'Mare says. "But the breadth of your expertise surprises me. You don't plan to specialize, do you?"

Eh. "No. I like being able to do a lot of things, even if I'm not considered skilled in any specific thing."

"If it means you can make things like this, I approve." She says. "We'll pay you after the mission."

Right, the mission. Upon that reminder, the four girls went back to their discussion with Jake about how best to proceed with their formation.

At least, that's what I think they're talking about. As the hour continues, the conversation is skewing more and more to an interview about Jake's personal life.

Eventually, we arrive at our target destination…kind of. There's a small town to the southwest of Whiterun, population…200 or so, maybe? It's a quiet village set to a scene of forests and mountains behind it. The amount of practice targets and game carcasses tells me that this place focuses on hunting.

Per Jake's orders, Erik guides the wagon to the village inn (or its local approximant) and we enter after securing the wagon.

Upon entering the inn…well, it's a standard Skyrim inn. The fire pit in the middle is half burned out, and a group of…eight? Redguards are busy warming their hands around the embers. Apart from them are an Innkeeper, two young-ish servant girls (his daughters, maybe?) and one guard.

Hmm.

Jake makes a beeline to the Redguards with absolutely zero hint of hesitation. "Hello there." He says warmly.

"Fair winds to you." The Redguard lead(?) replies warily. "To what do we owe this interruption, stranger?"

"I'm looking for a group of Redguards." Jake says with all the intention of issuing a challenge. "Whiterun has placed a bounty on a group of would-be murderers who nearly killed a woman.

The Redguards look at each other in…shock? "Is that so?" The Redguard leader says slowly. "I can vouch for our innocence." He folds his arms. "Why do you believe that we are the ones responsible?"

"Oh, I don't." Jake shrugs. "But I am looking for answers."

"You're very forward. I respect that." The Redguard leader stands up and extends a hand. "I am the leader of the 34th Alik'r Long Range Recon Task Force. My name is Kematu." Oh. Also, that task force name is strangely…modern.

"Pleasure." Jake doesn't show anything beyond polite indifference though I'm sure he also recognized the title's unique structure. "Jake. Master of the Warwolf Company."

"Given that we are under suspicion, our task force will accompany you back to Whiterun." Kematu says. "I would like to plead our innocence within the full view of the law."

…So this is very different from the game. Kematu (not Komatu, as I keep remembering it) in game was basically a boss at the end of a tunnel if you chose to fight him after a dungeon of bog-standard bandits. Here, he's…y'know, different.

"Would you have a reason to attack a Redguard woman?" I ask.

"We…have reasons to find a Redguard woman by the name of Saadia." Kematu says. "However, we are fully aware that she is within the Bannered Mare, and thus would have no reason to randomly attack another person."

…well…"are there competitor groups working in Skyrim?"

"Potentially." Kematu nods. "But who are you, stranger?" He asks suddenly. Fair, I suppose.

"Ash, Head of Warwolf Logistics." I say. "I make things."

"I see…" Kematu frowns. "To answer your question, yes, there are competitive groups operating in Skyrim. Saadia was instrumental in destroying the resistance ability of many major houses in Hammerfell, with House Taneth being one of them. I am not so naïve as to believe that she was able to accomplish everything on her own, but she is a fundamental part of the effort." He looks to both me and Jake. "Understand that my orders, first and foremost, were to have her arrested and returned to Hammerfell. It would not reflect well on my professionalism to see her dead." He chuckles. "I would like to be promoted to a more comfortable job in Hammerfell when this is all done and over." He gets some laughs from his group with that.

Hmm…I'm curious as to whether if it's possible that he tasked a detachment for the job, since all Hammerfell folk look the same™ it's entirely reasonable that he can pin this action onto a rival group. To that end, if he goes and testifies against a rival group, he's basically scot free.

Super hmm…

Either way, Jake agrees to escort the Hammerfell folk to Whiterun. At Whiterun, Kematu turns himself and his unit over to the guards and agree to provide any information that he has about the subject.

…Which means we have to go _back_ out there, because we technically did not find and arrest (or murder) the people responsible for stabbing Saffir. We got a little bonus, though, which is nice.

To clarify: we're going back out tomorrow, since carting Kematu's band into Whiterun (under guard) took enough time that, if we were to sally again, we would basically have to camp an hour away from the city. As such, we're spending the rest of the day resting.

…Kinda, sorta. Upon hearing about my enchantment table, she got really curious and wanted me to enchant something for her, which I can't do, because I can't enchant.

"Really?" She had said. "There might be something wrong with your table then."

…Which…y'know, looking back, it has literally never occurred to me that a hand-me-down table no longer in use by the royal mage may have been handed down for a reason, like…y'know, being broken.

I am not very clever some times.

So now T'nerem is in my house, looking over my enchanting table.

"If I had to guess?" She says after some fifteen minutes of close observation. "I'd say that the lines are worn out." She gestures to the blue five-point star in the middle of the table. "It's made with a very special type of paint that allows magic to be channeled effectively. When a table is overused and gets old, the paint is used up."

Hum. "And…"

T'nerem gives me a shrug. "And, as far as I remember, there are only two workshops that are capable of producing enchanting tables in all of Skyrim." She says. "And I'm very sure there is no place that actually repairs tables."

That's new. "Why not?" You'd think there'd be people who would do these things.

"Because it's very hard to tell which lines on the star is rundown." She says. "Too high of a discrepancy in the lines causes the magic to run inefficiently, which could cause the table to explode."

…I…I kind of want to see that, to be honest.

"As a result, if a table needs to be replaced then all of the paint would have to be replaced." She continues. "Since most of the cost of the table is the paint, it's basically just cheaper to buy a new table."

…So…what you're saying is…this is basically not a problem at all for me now that I know what the problem is? Neat.

 _We scrape off a part of the glowy paint with our nails and stick it in our mouth. T'nerem predictably goes "what are you doing?" in surprise._

It tastes like…if someone had a vat of mint extract and dipped a paint chip in it. I can legitimately say I'm not sure how to feel about it. The point behind doing this, if you're wondering, is to boost my understanding of the paint so that when I do my transmutation shenanigans I can get a higher efficiency on it, however small the bonus might be.

Either way, let's see here…

 _We channel our inner magic into some Flames and a small candle-like flame spouts from our pinky._

Ok, I have my powers back. Alright, next.

 _We don't notice T'nerem blinking in surprise._

I have some water and some sticky stuff. I transmute the sticky stuff into blue paint and mix it with the water, I then transmute the mixture so that it's more paint-y. Understandably, a lot of the material is lost due to inefficiency. I started with a bucket and now I have half of an inkwell.

…and here I have a problem, because while I understand that the paint is blue and has magic properties, I don't understand how the properties work *at all*. Transmutation and Replace are flexible, but they can't create something out of nothing. I can make my paint *like* the paint used to draw the enchanting star, but I have no guarantee that the paint does exactly the same things.

…then again, I know how to channel magic from soulstones to other sources, so maybe it works like that? Alternatively, I can just apply the paint and transmute it to be "of the same substance" as the paint it's lying on, see if that works.

 _We experiment for an hour on how to make the paint and mend the table._

Dinnertime. I have no idea if progress can be made at all, thanks to…well, to how many variables I have to account for just to test if a fix worked or not.

"It should work." T'nerem says (she's staying for dinner). "You have a control over magic that's comparable to a Journeyman, so it should be doable."

While I'm happy about the praise, I do have to wonder, though: where is her magic knowledge coming from? The four sisters were on the run ever since they were young, yeah? The information she's giving me seems like the kind that would only happen after reasonably extensive studying, and studying is kinda hard to do when you're on the run all the time.

…Well, I'm not going to bring it up for the time being. If I find her in my bed at night with unnervingly long teeth (or teeth at all in certain place) then things are going to happen anyways.

After dinner, I get the girls bathed and put to bed, and continue my attempts to repair the table. I'm pretty sure I've still made no progress by the time I have to go to bed.

…

[Next Day]

…

I have some time before we head out again, so let's see if the repairs we did accomplished anything.

 _We make breakfast for the girls and the bring the table out._

It's a very nice day today. Cold as balls, but nice.

Alright.

 _We set a trio of stones on the magic table and one of the swords we had stashed around._

…Oh.

 _The channeling happens near-immediately and the edge of the blade begins to flicker with flames._

Oh wow.

It feels like I'm pouring magic into this thing. This is so easy.

…

I get the feeling that I've been basically pushing on a pull door like a fucking idiot.

…

Oh, or not.

As soon as I break my focus, the magic just runs out of the sword and dissipates into the air. I'm trying to put in a Fire based enchantment, which makes the air around the sword warmer, but as soon as I drop the enchant the power is gone.

Hrm. Ok, let's review. Now that the table has been…modified (I don't know if I've really repaired it) the sword is basically another cog in the chain. The enchantment basically gets to pass into it without any issue, but now the problem is that I have no way of stopping the magic from leaving.

But it's progress. I wonder if this means I can dynamically enchant weapons as I go?

…but first, I need to get ready for part two of our "let's go hunt some dudes" journey. I should bring the book along again for another read. Maybe I missed something.

…

[We Set off Again]

…

This time, we're headed towards Riverwood.

"There's a group at Riverwood?" T'Mare the Blue asks. "That's rather far from Whiterun."

Jake nods in agreement. "Yep, which is why we're going there. Someone who's tried to murder another person would be trying to escape as quickly as possible, and ever since Helgen was destroyed…" he pauses to think over his next sentence. "…It strikes me as likely that the ruins of Helgen would be a good place to hide."

"I see your reasoning." She nods. "And I concur. Lead on, guildmaster."

 _And then we proceed to sit in a wagon for three days._

Fortunately no. I forget how long it took us to make this trip last time, but this time it takes us just one day. I attribute this speed to the lack of a wounded horse and, more importantly, to the willingness to continue moving for two more hours after sundown.

"We have good eyes, don't worry." T'yanna the Orange had said when Jake made the decision. "We'll keep everyone on track."

Which is nice, because it meant we basically had a pair of eyes for each cardinal direction.

Also: nighttime in the woods is terrifying because it is very dark.

Also also: my girls (and Mell) have surprisingly powerful grips and tense at every sound. My arms are a little bit red. I forgive my girls. Mell, less so.

(Why yes I am biased, why do you ask?)

For the trip I basically sat and experimented with the paint, with drawing five-point stars (very small stars) and doing what is basically a pseudo-enchant circle to see how far I would get.

Spoilers: not very far, though I think I've gotten a handle on how to channel the magic in such a way that the enchantment effect shows. I've made five attempts to put Shock in into five different strips of iron, and each time the daggers exhibited very clear signs of…shock-i-ness. The effect stops as soon as I stop putting power into it, but it's very heartening to see progress being made.

…

[Sometime during the trip]

…

"Is enchanting supposed to be hard?" I ask T'nerem.

"Yes." She says without hesitation. "Enchanting is a complex field of magic. Outside of Skyrim, a good enchanter is always in demand." Her eyes flit down to the circle I was using. "Would you like an assessment on your abilities?"

No but yes. "Please."

"You'd be a top candidate for a court mage once you get enchants to succeed." She says. "From what I've seen, the flexibility you have with magical power is easily unparalleled in all of Skyrim."

…but I still can't get anything to work. "Thanks." Still, it's good to know that I'm making progress.

"Where did you acquire this magical knowledge?" Mell asks curiously. "For someone on the run, you're very well-versed."

"There was a time when it was possible for me to have settled down." T'nerem replies with a casual shrug. "A court mage back home took notice of me and wanted to make me his wife, but unfortunately he didn't want the rest of my sisters along." She grins. "Unfortunate, considering that I was rather fond of him."

Mell frowns. "Elswyr has an age limit on their court mages, correct?"

"Aye." T'ma (listening in) says. "The man was 44 years old and she was 13."

…ew. Nobody else (sans Jake) seems to mind, but still, ew.

"If only it had worked out in our favor rather than just mine." T'nerem shrugs. "Anyways, I learned much about magical theory by living in his house."

Suuuper ew. The fact that nobody except me and Jake are batting an eye at this…is kinda normal, I guess. Doesn't make it any less ew, but…yeah.

"Speaking of magic…" T'nerem takes a book from her satchel. "Think you can learn this?"

…Can't…can't everyone? "I was under the impression that magic was basically learnable by everyone." I say slowly.

"That is very optimistic of you." T'yanna laughs.

I take the tome from T'nerem and…

 _We skim over a few pages._

Holy fucking shit this is dense. "What spell is this?" There's a lack of a title and it worries me greatly.

"No clue. I stole it from a wagon before coming into Whiterun." T'nerem says.

As far as I remember there exist no spell in Skyrim that has an inherently negative effect, which is basically saying that the book I have in my hand right now is the first one.

…Well, either way, it'll be fun to learn.

…

 _Some hours later, also known as "the present"._

…

The book's main cover was too damaged to read, but going by contextual information and what I've read so far, this is Fire Cloak. Cloak of Fire. Cloak of Flames. Flame Cloak. I don't remember the name ('cuz I basically never use it) but it is that spell. My basis is due to the fact that the book describes how to make a wrapping cloak of fire that burns shit.

I've read through half of it so far, and I have to say: the language is _fucking_ flowery as all hell. It's very difficult to tell which parts are the spell and which are not…though, given my experience with previous spellbooks, everything in the book has something to do with the spell. Either way, someone with only a working knowledge of the written language (read: almost everyone) learning higher level spells would be…difficult, though certainly not impossible.

"Have you tried to learn this?" I ask the T-sisters. All of them nod.

"To varying degrees of effect." T'Ma says. "It's more draining than simple Flames with no appreciable quality difference for us, and therefore we do not include it in our arsenal."

Makes sense. New learned spells are always more expensive than ones you've been using for a while, and if you don't have a good grasp of the spell the cost spikes rather harshly.

Still.

 _We cast the spell, and a burst of flames wrap itself around our hand._

This is…tentatively useful? In game it was basically a damage over time for all targets that were nearby. Given I usually played a stealth archer or a Dual Cast+Stagger mage this spell basically never saw any action. The spell operates like a combination of a -skin and Flames, where the magic is channeled in such a way that it wraps around a target body part and emits the applied magic outwards. Hmm.

 _We tweak the spell until the cloak of flames wrap around an empty space shaped like a stick, emitting from our hand._

Ok, this is a thing. It's cheaper than what I had intended to do, but…

 _We run the sword into the ground as Riverwood becomes visible in the distance. The sword vanishes into the ground but seems to do nothing else._

…the power seems to be highly lacking. The fire burns, but…yeah. I'll need to experiment with this in more detail before I can find a use for it.

…speaking of fires, is it just me, or is Riverwood not as bright as normal? Did it snow here a lot or something?

 _We get closer to the village._

…It's dark, but I can tell that the skyline of the village has changed. Something is missing.

Jake, I imagine, feels the same way I do. "Stop the cart." He says and hops off. "Ash, let's go. Everybody else stay put. Follow after at a slow pace."

"Aye." Erik replies readily, but with a bit of confusion. "Will you two be alright by yourselves?"

"Ash might be a problem." T'yanna says in good cheer. "But as a pair they should be fine."

I have a baad feeling about this.

…

The two of us cover the remaining two hundred meters or so and reach Riverwood proper.

Now that we're closer, I can see that the skyline is indeed different due to the lack of one of its major buildings. The Riverwood Inn has burned down.

When did it burn down?

 _Jake makes a 'stop' motion with his arm and we do._

There's quite a bit of cloud cover so the moonlight is unreliable, but going by the…I guess, the lack of shock? The damage done was quite recent.

"Keep pace, we'll waltz in." Jake murmurs.

"Aye." I nod and light a torch. The two of us then hurriedly walk into Riverwood in plain view and I think I see the problem.

 _There are five people in Elven Armor loitering around the outside of the Inn's remains._

I _think_ I know what happened. Shit.

"Halt!" The lead Aldemari dude says as soon as he sees our light. Going by his size, he might be the Jake of their unit. "Who goes there?"

"Travellers!" Jake calls back. "We've rushed against the night and are in need of rest!"

"Then you're out of luck, friend." Aldemari Man B says with a rather audible sneer. "The Riverwood Inn is no more."

Why?

"Its leader is guilty of open treason against the empire." Aldemari Man C says. "And we've brought her to justice!"

So…they found Delphine. Mother dick.

"Why are the two of you not surprised?" Man A asks suspiciously. "Could it be that you knew of her treachery?"

"I don't even know who she is." I say with a scowl. "What do you want, a medal?"

"Watch your tongue." Aldemari Woman A snaps and I think I've made a mistake. "We are tasked with an immensely honorable task. Do not sully it with your lies."

…is it just me, or are they trying to find an excuse for a fight? I guess that means they missed Delphine.

"Just…just to be clear, here." He says slowly. "You guys found a traitor of the Empire in Riverwood?" If my ears do not deceive me, that is indeed the voice Jake uses when he is about to open a can of whoopass.

I get ready to throw spells.

"That's what I said, oaf." Man A sneers. He sneers _so hard_. "Or was that too difficult to understand?"

Jake mimes scratching his head, putting his hand closer to the hilt of his claymore. "Correct me if I'm wrong here, but last I checked, the Jarl of Whiterun was dead set against accepting Imperial support, yeah?"

"What of it?" Aldemari Woman B says curtly.

"Well, that would mean that the five of you just attacked neutral territory." Jake says slowly. "And that's a problem."

"I'm sure." Man A unsheathes his sword. "But sadly for you, I do not listen to traitors."

 _Jake suddenly charges forward and, before any of us could react, behead the Man with one swing of his claymore._

…Ok I guess we're starting

 _We shoot two bolts of the most powerful Shock we have against the two furthest targets while Jake spins and murderizes the other two._

Jeez. "More warning next time?"

"I wish." Jake says. "Help me." He jerks a thumb to the ruins of the inn. We drag the five bodies to the burned down ruins to make it look more like an accident. Jake then loots the bodies while I wash away the blood on the streets.

I imagine he's doing this because

"Halt!" _A woman yells._

…it would be nice if we were not found out. Obviously that's gone out the window now…

Jake stands, about to toss an Elven helmet that popped off of the corpse he had just moved, and sees a white blur charging at him. He draws his short sword and blocks the swing and that's Aria isn't it

 _It is. She disarms Jake within two strikes and has him decidedly on the back foot after four._

"Blue on blue!" If she's anything like how 100% of the populace plays Skyrim then she won't stop until all targets are dead "BLUE ON BLUE!" Oh shit oh shit oh shit

 _Our yelling get Aria's attention enough that she stops long enough for Jake to back off, drop the helmet, and surrender._

She glares at the two of us. "Explain. Now."

"We just got here and we murdered five Aldemari folk." I say with rambling speed. "So unless you're on their side we did nothing wrong."

Aria sheathes her sword. "I see. I have some questions." We all hear the sound of people coming closer. "Let's talk somewhere else."

Yes, let's.

 _We all walk back to the cart, now only a hundred paces or so from Riverwood._

Mell's the first to notice our return. "Who's the…Aria!" She jumps off the cart to give our dragonborn a hug.

Also…now that I'm paying attention, Aria's equipment…uh…up-and-down-graded a bit.

I don't remember what she left with, so I'm assuming that the steel armor she's wearing on the bottom-most layer is her actual armor. It seems to be in pieces in several locations and the right arm section seems to be entirely missing. On top of her armor is layers of patchwork leather, fur, and…bits of dwarven plate? It all looks like a poncho.

…On one hand, it's very patchwork in its appearance, but on the other, the patchwork seems very…I dunno, clean? Like, yes, it's made up of disparate pieces, but the piecemeal status of the armor is not due to field repairs or constant wear-and-tear.

"So." I ask as we get situated in our cart (and roll into Riverwood like nothing happened). "What happened?"

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

You know how, when looking for that MacGuffin for the Greybeards, the twist at the end of the dungeon is a piece of paper?

Funny how things work when more than just the Dragonborn can go dungeon crawling, huh?


	13. The Things Speeding Up Experience

{ === + === }

 _We head to an Inn in Riverwood._

Since the bigger one burned down, all the lesser ones are a touch busier as a result. We take a secluded corner of the room.

"First of all, what've you been doing lately?" I ask Aria as we all get situated.

…

[Exposition]

…

Hrm.

So…when she left us, she got called back to the Greybeards and met them in the middle of the night, more or less, which let her to go get some artifact important to them. It's probably the Horn, but she's taking precautions not to tell us exactly what it is.

In-game, you now get the first step of Whirlwind sprint, the second step of Unrelenting force, and a quest marker to the dungeon with the Horn. After getting there, you find out that the Horn is taken by someone who got there before you.

In Aria's case, her innate clairvoyance could not tell her about the Horn's whereabouts, which implies to me that the ability has some finnicky conditions before it can accurately predict the position of the item. Either way, she's spent a lot of time just trying to track down the dungeon. She then clears it without much loot to show for it, because apparently somebody already ransacked the place before.

"I don't know how they got past one of the security measures." She grumbles halfway through her story.

I assume she means the puzzle that can only be cleared with Whirlwind Sprint, or else the power known as 'Having Friends'.

Either way, upon entering the final room, she finds…nothing. No note, no Horn, no treasure, nothing.

Well, that's not exactly true. She did find the corpse of an Aldmeri Soldier. The Soldier was keeping a rather…shoddy, journal (she shows it to us). One of the notes on the journal was the words 'Dragon' and 'Helgen' connected with a two-pointed arrow.

So, without more leads, she went back to Helgen to see what she could find. Apart from some bandits moving in and taking over the now burned down keep, she got nothing.

At this point she's more or less given up, and was on her way back to Whiterun when she ran into us, who she thought was working for the Aldmeri since Jake had a helmet of theirs.

"That thing is like half the size of my head." Jake observes.

"I know, and I'm sorry." Aria apologizes. "I haven't had a good night's sleep for the entire journey and I'm a touch exhausted."

On one hand, we now know what she's been doing.

On the other, we now still know nothing about what's going on.

"It's already late, so let's bed down for the night." I say. "We'll do some more intel gathering in the morning."

Jake agrees, and therefore by extension the rest of the party agrees. Aria sees my two girls but pays them no overt attention.

…

 _We rent some rooms and stay for the night._

…

Next morning, Aria's brain catches up to her eyes.

"When did you have kids?" She asks me. "I wasn't gone for that long, was I?"

"Special circumstances." I reply with a grin. "Things happened."

"I see. What's your name?" She asks Older Sister, who shies away and says nothing.

Until I can get 'em to open up I don't think we'll ever learn their names.

Anyways, we're going to split up today and do some intel runs around Whiterun. I'm going to talk to some people (Camilla and the Blacksmith respectively), Jake's going to retread the Riverwood Inn, Erik's heading up an expedition to find some murdering Redguards, and Aria is…

…well, truth be told I kind of expected her to sleep in given her exhaustion, but she's going to help Jake around the rubble and see what they can find together.

The T-Sisters are splitting into two groups. Blue and Red are going with Jake (in case something happens) and Orange and Purple are coming with me (in case something happens). I get the feeling that if something does happen that will only increase the body count by two, but it's nice that they plan ahead.

…

 _We head on over to the Riverwood Trader._

"Customers!" Camilla's brother says upon us entering his shop. I don't remember his name. "Lucan Valerius, at your service." He slightly overexaggerates his bow.

"Hello, Ash." Camilla greets me. I guess she remembers my face. "You brought friends?" She asks upon seeing the two catgirls. The T-Sisters only look odd because of their hair color and they now have cloth to wrap around their heads, so it's a lot harder for a casual observer to tell that they are strange for catpeople. At a glance, they just look like really busty warrior folk in leather armor.

I shrug. "It's been a whirlwind. These are new initiates to the guild…or something to that effect. Can I talk to you guys for a second?" I gesture to both Lucan and Camilla to avoid getting shanked by Sven, who may or may not have just walked in behind me.

"Sure. Is this about Delphine?" Camilla asks and I love how sharp she is. "You're not the only one interested about something like that."

"Remember, sister." Lucan says in a low warning. Hmm.

"Tell me what happened." I say.

…

[Exposition]

…

…Huh, ok.

It's pretty straightforward. One day, some Aldmeri guys walked in to town, asked for directions to the Riverwood Inn. They went in, stayed for a few minutes, then left.

The Inn caught on fire during that night and burned down come morning. That's all these two know about the situation. Everything else would be speculation, and every time Camilla tries to speculate Lucan would rather brutishly shut her up.

…which implies that they know the Aldmeri are involved, but seriously who doesn't believe that the Aldmeri are involved…

 _While we talked, Sven and Faendal both visit the inn._

I question them too.

Sven works at the inn, and as far as he could tell the Aldmeri just asked some polite but very open-ended questions about Helgen and the Dragon to Delphine, nothing that would draw too much attention (and honestly he was working at the time so he wasn't paying too much attention).

Faendal thought he saw people scope out the Inn from the woods near Riverwood, but they were well concealed and, like Sven, he had a job to do, so he didn't pay them too much attention.

…Mmm…in the end, nothing that we don't already know or could have guessed, I suppose. Knowing that the Aldmeri made first contact changes things a little, but at least they didn't drag Delphine out in chains.

Depressingly, neither Delphine or Orgnar (the dude running the front desk) were seen after the place burned down. The Aldmeri made frequent returns to the burn site (until we killed them) so…whatever they were looking for here they haven't already found.

…

 _We then question Alvor the Blacksmith._

…

Nothing new here either. He was awake when the fire started but had to ensure that it didn't spread to the rest of the town, so he has no more information than anyone else.

…

Urgh. Well, it's not a total waste of time, I guess, but it's a total waste of time.

Let's see what the other guys did.

…

 _We head to the Inn._

We catch Jake's party wandering around the debris, all the while being onlooked by a small gaggle of…onlookers. I should've picked a better verb.

Anyways, Jake sees me coming. "Yo, found anything?" He calls out.

"Nothing that we couldn't already guess." I call back. "How's this side?"

"Still looking." Jake says simply. I assume he's looking for the same thing I think he's looking for, which is the entrance to Delphine's basement.

…that sounds a lot creepier than intended, yeah.

Either way, I help him look. I think Aria picked up on Jake going through the rubble in a systematic fashion, because she, like him, is sticking largely around the right side of the building.

After some thirty minutes of trawling around the rubble, I see something that could be interesting. "Jake." He comes over and we move around said rubble to reveal…

…a steel trapdoor. There is no outward facing handle, so…this isn't a door designed to be opened from the outside. Or openable after an accident. Thanks to the ashes and the rubble, it's near indistinguishable from its surroundings without knowing that something was there.

Hmm.

 _We knock on the trapdoor._

No response, as expected. Major hmm.

"Think we can force this open?" Jake murmurs. "Girls, wanna help us with this?" He asks. Then adds in a lone tone, "we need more dudes in this outfit."

…Ehn? I'm pretty ok with how things are. If I can get the T-Sisters to trust me more I can probably borrow them as mannequins for progressively more anime-lewd outfits. If I'm gonna be judged for my perverse incentives I'd rather it be by as few people as possible.

Anyways, the girls all come around and we…um. Jake puts his Greatsword into a niche that he could find and starts to use it as an oh my goodness

 _The sword flexes and bends, and goes deeper._

"Ash? You make some good shit." Jake grins. With Aria and T'Mare's help, they pull the hatch back. In retrospect, it probably wasn't that heavy. By the looks of it this is probably…what, two hundred pounds tops?

…Which means my sword can handle two hundred pounds of weight without snapping. That's pretty good, right?

Anyhoo, the cover's off now. It leads down to a tunnel that's pretty short and reinforced.

"Lights." Aria commands, draws a dagger, and begins to advance down the tunnel. I shoot some lights into the room.

Aria enters the tunnel and disappears for a moment. "It's ok, it's clear." She says, still out of sight.

Jake follows, then me.

The tunnel is short and the room small (as expected). Let's see…well, Delphine's in the corner of the room, looking a bit ragged and grumpy, but otherwise healthy.

"I suppose I should blame you lot for exposing my hideout." Delphine says and folds her arms. "Who are you?"

 _Quick introductions get made._

"Hm." Delphine says simply after we're all done. "Why did you find this place?"

…Good question. "I was curious to see if we could find something that the Aldmeri missed." I say. "Also they're dead."

"Good riddance." Delphine smirks, then scowls. "I figured I was creating a significant amount of risk for myself with that little trick, but I didn't think it would bite me as badly as this."

"What happened to the other guy?" Jake asks. "Your, erm, bartender?"

"Orgnar?" Delphine sighs…strangely. "He's probably been taken, or else buried under the rubble. Knowing the Aldemeri probably the former, for better or worse." It's a strange sigh because it sounds like a she's already moved on. "Either way, this hideout is no longer safe. I'll need a new place to conduct my operations."

Um.

"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay out of it." Delphine adds as it looks like we're about to ask her for details. "As you can see, this isn't child's play."

I can see that. "Well, if the Aldmeri are burning down random inns, then I think we have a vested interest to figure out what's going on. I'd like to keep my house from burning to the ground, thank you very much."

"Moreover, the dragons are back." Aria adds. "We should be focused on them, not fighting each other."

"Yeah?" Delphine raises an eyebrow. "Did you know that a dragon's back in Kynesgrove, too?"

Shit, we missed that? "We do now. When did that happen?"

"Five days ago, thereabouts." Delphine walks to a map laid out on the table in the middle of the room. "According to my network, Kynesgrove has been burned to the ground and the dragon in question was heading south."

"Oh, that one?" Aria notes. "I saw it fly overhead. It didn't seem to care much for my arrows."

…Yeah, if the dragon just doesn't want to fight, then Aria's ability to eat their souls doesn't account for much.

"Is that why you went dungeon crawling? You wanted to solve the dragon problem?" I ask Delphine.

"I considered it to have been a necessary lesson." Delphine replies. "At the very least, I still have the item in question."

…Oh, that's a good point. Delphine has the Horn of

 _Aria beelines to a barrel nearly indistinguishable from its surrounding stone walls, pops the lid, and nabs the Horn._

…Jurgen…Windcaller…she has no respect when it comes to quest items, huh?

"Well, now I have some questions." Delphine's sword pretty much teleport from its scabbard to her hand. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"I was looking for this." Aria replies plainly. "Why did you have it?"

" _I_ was looking for the next dragonborn." Delphine narrows her eyes. "Were you sent by the Greybeards?"

 _T'Ma leans over to T'Mare and goes "What's a Dragonborn?" in a really low voice._

"I am." Aria gently sets the horn down on the table in plain sight of everyone. "I'll be taking it with me, thank you very much."

"I don't think so." Delphine's…not exactly angry, but she is definitely _not_ happy about how this is all going down. "For all I know, you're in league with the Aldmeri dominion. I can't just let you leave."

…Well there's seven of us and one of you, so…

Aria, for her part, shrugs and wraps the horn in some cloth that she had. "It's not like this was yours to begin with." She takes the resulting package and secures it around her belt. "So I'm sure you won't miss it."

…is it me, or is Aria the Mary Sue of War really bad at dealing with people?

 _At this point, The T-sisters' ears all rotate to the outside._

"I hear something." T'Ma says quickly. Her ears are pointed outside, which…can mean nothing good. "What do we do?"

I…want to turtle up in here, but Fireballs are a thing and being in here just means we can be bombarded forever and that would be bad. "Jake, Aria, get out there." I order. "If you're not boxed in then we're not boxed in."

"Yep." Jake draws a short sword and shoots out of our little bunker. Immediately we hear someone go "you there, stop!" followed by footsteps and the sound of rubble being scattered everywhere. Given that Jake did not stop I'm going to assume we're not dealing with friendlies out there.

Aria leaves next, and then things start dying.

About twenty seconds later, things stop dying, so…

 _We poke our head out of the tunnel._

…yes. Two blokes in elven armor are dead. More blokes in elven armor are engaged with Jake. One…five…seven of them in total. Yikes, seriously? More are coming, too.

 _Aria moves to head off the ones just joining the battle._

Jake's being pushed back because the aldemeri are basically shooting him with lightning while they cut him open with swords. Let's intervene.

 _We get a good vantage point._

KA

ME

HA

ME…

 _We do the whole 'pull arms back and charge up' thing, too._

HAAAAAAAAAAAA!

 _The resulting blast of lightning scatters literally everywhere, but fortunately mostly aims forwards and does what it's supposed to do, also known as 'mentally shocking the shit out of everybody'._

In retrospect I should have thought that one through. "Engage!"

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Ash's massively overpowered Shock spell washes over the Aldmeri and Jake, and it makes them all temporarily numb.

Jake, rolling with it due to the lightning not affecting him at all, immediately go on the attack as the Aldmeri recover from the surprise.

In the corner of his eye, he could see the T-sisters join in the combat as Ash hang back with Mell. They take the formation they're told and begin digging into the Aldmeri's flank.

 _Yeah, that's about what I expected._ Jake notes in his head as the sisters go to work. _It's real fuckin' suspicious when you all make the exact same mistakes hours on end, you know?_ He eyes T'Ma's sword work for a brief second before returning to his own.

"I can patch 'em up later if needed, but it'd be nice if you kept one alive!" Ash calls out.

"Aye." Jake replies, shoulder charges his nearest target, and then, with a homerun swing, brings the flat of his Greatsword into his target's helmet.

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

Whew. I mean, I didn't really do anything after that initial blast, but whew nonetheless.

In total, there were fifteen Aldmeri units operation in the area, not counting the five we already killed last night.

…That…is a big fuckin' number.

"Were they all out to get you?" I ask Delphine as Jake drags the one he stunned over to me. "Because, holy shit, somebody doesn't like you."

Delphine laughs. "That's an understatement if there ever was one." She punches Jake on the arm. "It seems I was wrong about you lot. Anyone who's willing to throw down with the Aldmeri like that is good in my books." She winks at him and Jake's harem counter increases by one. She'd be the denmother, I suppose.

I mean, he _does_ know how to use his sword and he uses it vigorously. Wink wink, etc etc etc.

Anyways.

 _We pour some healing into the downed dude and bring him back around._

"Sup." I ask the now unarmed and unhelmeted man. "What brings you to these parts, stranger?"

He…huh. He starts foaming at the mouth.

 _We pump him full of healing magic and anti-poison type magic._

It doesn't work at great efficiency but I power through because I have quantity over quality. Eventually, I guess the poison subsides, and he looks around at us, a bit…I dunno, dumbstruck?

"I give you points for trying to kill yourself." I pat him on the shoulder and cast Calm on him. "Feel like talking? Why are you here?"

I'm using a…I'm going to call this a 'subtype' of calm, in the sense that I'm mixing the magic of calm with the magic of healing, and I'm specifically targeting his endorphin production. He's gonna feel _real_ good when this spell is active, along with calm's base effect of making people calm. I kinda wish Skyrim had Charm, too.

By the way, the whole Calm Subtype thing? I am bullshitting with extreme prejudice. This is the first time I've used it in any capacity. Regardless, the Calm spell seems to take into effect.

"We're sent specifically to find Grandmaster Delphine." The man says. "And to eliminate her as need be."

"Grandmaster?" Aria looks between the man and Delphine. "Grandmaster of what?"

"Of the Blades." The man says. "She is the last remaining master of the Blades, and continues to work in secret to halt the efforts of the Aldemeri Dominion."

It says a lot about the Blade's lack of fame when that bombshell drop got a response out of literally nobody.

"Given the current circumstances it doesn't appear that I've succeeded." Delphine grumbles. "How did you know I was here?" She asks.

"One of my superiors recognized your face and your handwriting." The man says.

"He's quite old then." Delphine smirks. "I haven't written to anyone in years. Do the Aldmeri have anything to do with dragons?"

"What dragons?" The man asks, and I assume that makes him a mook.

…

We question him for a further five minutes for information, before finally coming to the conclusion that he…uh…doesn't really know a lot. So…yes, a mook.

I know exactly what's going to happen next so I'm just going to pretend I don't see any of it.

 _After confirming that the man has no more valuable information to give, Delphine separates his head from his body._

We all then take some time to quickly round up the corpses and, per Delphine's orders, toss them into her ex-bunker and set the whole thing ablaze.

I think she torched everything she had down there, too. "Now what?" I ask her.

"Now, we leave." Delphine grunts. "The sooner we get out of here, the better."

Let's abandon Erik to the wolves, yeah? "We have other business in Riverwood." I say. "I'd like to see to that first."

"Ditto." Jake says. "Girls, go with Delphine and get the cart ready. We'll go get Erik."

 _So they do._

"So…" Jake says softly as our parties split in a hurry. "You…know that the cats were bullshitting about never having fought before, right?"

Well… "I can't really tell, but I considered it a possibility." I nod. "Do you know why?"

"No clue yet." He shrugs. "They seem real keen to deflect the question whenever I get close to the topic, so I figure it'd be good to avoid prying and just keep a knife close by."

Hmm. "Think someone's out to get us?"

"After today, yes." He nods. "But otherwise…"

Super hmm. "What are we doing after?"

"I don't really know." Jake sighs. "Normally we'd go and rescue Kynesgrove but obviously that's out. After this is the…what, the banquet?"

"Assuming if everything goes as expected, which it hasn't so far." I nod. "Do we need to relocate?"

Jake grumbles a little at that prospect. "Hope not. I want to at least be here for a year before shit starts going down."

Hmm. "Are we gonna have to join the Legion?"

"The game gives you freedom to avoid locking the player into a set path." Jake says. "And, like, I can see _Aria_ getting special treatment."

In other words, Aria may become a Quaestor, but us joining the Legion would just add two more Auxilia into the Legion's ranks until the war ends. I in particular might be shipped back to the Imperial Capital to make bullshit gear for the rest of my life. No surprises there, if you think about it.

…Well, the current situation first. We can think about what happens afterwards.

 _We find Erik at one of the inns._

Perk of making everyone wear their Warwolf capes: super easy to find out what's going on. We took off ours during the whole "kill Aldmeri" section for rather obvious reasons.

Anyways, Erik has…oh come on.

 _Erik is nursing a bleeding nose._

I heal him. "What happened?"

"He punched me." Erik says…well, I can see that, but…

"Who?" Jake looks around the inn. Apart from Jake, there are about…oh, eight other people? None of them are looking in our direction and none of them appear to be Redguards. As far as the general atmosphere is concerned, Erik might as well have just lost a tepid barfight.

"They left." Erik says. "Didn't see where they went."

Well ain't that nice. That said, they shouldn't have gone too far if we found Erik with a fresh wound. "Let's take a look." I point to the door. Did we miss them on the way in?

The two of us hustle out with Erik following close behind still going "god that hurt" in a low tone.

Aha.

After turning a corner, we see a group of people dressed in Redguard gear. Let's see if I can't get their attention. "Excuse me!"

 _On the sound of our voice, the Redguards take off running._

In retrospect I don't know what I expected.

 _We take off running after the group._

"Beware of ambush." Jake warns as the group clears the northern Riverwood gate and why are there no guards on duty I mean come on

 _They turn the corner and disappear from sight._

Well we're gonna get stabbed as soon as we turn the corner aren't we

 _We turn the corner and get shivved._

Or, more accurately, Jake's greatsword turns the corner first and does a lot of blunt force shivving. I don't know how shivving works. Either way, Jake barrels his way through the first two dagger-armed Redguards and fall upon the four in the back. The four in the back are just getting armed with bigger weapons and frankly

 _Jake beats the shit out of them with the blunt side of his greatsword._

They don't really stand a chance.

 _As Jake kick ass and take names, we use our shock magic to keep the two dagger users stunned._

What was the phrase? "Torture at will?"

Anyhoo, the fight ends about as soon as it starts, and the three of us quickly throw the idiots together in a pile with some rope to go along with it.

First off, "why'd you punch him?" I ask of the group in general and gesture to Erik.

"Because he was annoying." Redguard A says with a minor chuckle.

"And then why did you run?" Jake asks.

"Because you were annoying." Redguard B laughs. "So annoying we can't even run away!" Sounds like he's translating something idiomatic, for some reason.

But um…why does it feel like they don't understand what the problem is? "You're all being brought back to Whiterun on suspicion of murder." I announce. "Do you have any defense for yourselves?"

"No." Redguard A smirks. He's way too confident.

 _"There were seven of them." Erik muses in a low tone, which we catch a little late._

But there's six of them here.

…oh shit.

 _Jake unsheathes his greatsword as an arrow zips into our side._

GAAAAAAAA FUCK

OW

OWOWOW MOTHER PISS

 _We pluck out the arrow and OD on healing magic._

FUCKing hell that hurt. God damn. My kidney. Or spleen. It's somewhere around there.

 _Upon us getting hit, Jake zeroes in on the point of the arrow and vanishes in that direction._

About thirty seconds later, Jake returns with the last dude. His face has a large, rectangular red welt from when Jake bitchslapped him with his Greatsword (probably). He deserves it.

 _We do not notice every single Redguard (that's not the archer) staring at us. We also do not notice Erik pick up the arrow, look at it, and then stare at us._

I need to pee now and I'm not sure if the arrow had anything to do with it.

…

Ultimately we tie up the seven Redguards in a prisoner chain and hire a local mercenary group to transport them back to Whiterun. Jake takes a bit of their blood to put onto a guild scroll so he can claim the bounty later, and we return to the main group in good order.

I'm glad the arrow wasn't a bodkin point because _that_ would have hurt.

 _It's been fifteen minutes._

And I'm still bitter, all's right with the world. Really, though, if I didn't get burned on a daily basis by my forge I'm sure the damage would have made it rather hard for me to focus on heals. Learning is fun.

"We're back." Jake says as we return to the group. They're gathered around the wagon and a map of Skyrim that Delphine's currently pouring over. "What are you doing?"

"Deciding my next course of action." Delphine says, engrossed in the map. "I've lost my hideout and Whiterun is no longer safe. I'll need to find a better place to hide and plan my next action." She methodically places some small gems onto the map, occasionally referring to some scribbled notes.

…is it just me, or do those gem locations align with where you can find dragons in-game? I don't know my map too well, but it feels about right. There's a gem on Kynesgrove, one near Whiterun, one near Helgen, one on the Graybeards, and some others.

"These are the locations of dragons that I know about." Delphine says. "After this attack," she takes the gem from Helgen. "The dragon leaves and is nowhere to be seen, until now." She puts the same gem on Kynegrove. "A dragon supposedly wakes from Kynesgrove, and burn the village down before leaving." She removes both gems from where Kynesgrove should be.

"The Whiterun guard killed the one that showed up at the city." Jake says. Delphine nods and removes the gem from Whiterun. If Aria didn't tell us that she went and killed the dragon then we're just going to go with what the city announced officially.

"So…what's the one there?" I point to the gem that should represent Parthurnax.

"One of the Blade's oldest enemies." Delphine growls. "Fortunately he's not a threat yet." She takes the gem that probably represents Alduin and looks it over. "The biggest problem is this one." She says, showing us the gem. "I don't know who it is or what it is, but the rumors claim it to be Alduin himself, and I have a sneaking suspicion that they're right."

So…

"I need to know why Alduin is back." Delphine says. "And to that end, I need more information." She looks at all of us. "Will you help me?"

"Depends on the pay." Jake says breezily, cutting off Aria's likely altruistic response. "I have a business to run and, more importantly, I'm not risking my people without compensation."

Also we're like, not trained on information gathering and spy networks. At all.

"Fair's fair." Delphine nods. "I'll see what I can do."

…

Delphine doesn't actually have that much money. Instead, she's given us blueprints.

"Ash is the chief smith for your guild, is he not?" She said. "I believe these should provide ample compensation for the missions to come."

I…well, it's not money, but after studying these blueprints I do believe she's right.

She gave me three prints in total: Akaviri Katana, Akaviri armor, and a "Breathing Steel" that's needed to forge both of those things. To be perfectly clear, there's nothing stopping me from making katanas out of normal steel, but for the weapons to have their power I need to use BS. The fact that it abbreviates to BS gives me great joy, I'm not gonna lie.

 _We are now en-route back to Whiterun._

I'm studying the prints as everyone else walks. My girls are napping nearby, wrapped up in super-duper cozy blankets I made just for them.

"It's a difficult metal to make." Delphine says as I find a good place to take a break. "The prints have been passed down for centuries, but to the best of my knowledge there does not exist a single smith who has succeeded in crafting this material."

Hah. "And you think I have what it takes?"

Delphine shrugs. "Every smith who has ever worked for the blades have been given this blueprint, and there have been thousands. The closest man who has ever come close would be the master of the Skyforge himself, and Skyrim only has one of those each generation." She smiles good-naturedly, if a bit teasingly. "I will be happy if you succeed, but unsurprised if you do not."

…Hum. Sounds like this Breathing Steel is…well-oxidized? Is it a ratio thing? Either way, I'll keep it as reference if nothing else. If…well. "So how many people would recognize this steel if they saw it?" I ask Delphine.

"None." She laughs softly. "How can you ever believe something you've only ever heard as a fairy tale?"

…well, Alduin exists, so…

"In all of Skyrim, I believe there is only one person who can recognize the steel if it is forged." Delphine says. "Pity we have no clue where he is." So…Esbern.

Well, looking at the theoretical metal properties…it's basically the genius bastard child between water and diamond. Impossible to break and impossible to shear. Hell, it sounds like the properties of the metal has been inflated in the centuries.

…The closest analogy I can think of is Damascus Steel, and I don't know enough about forging techniques to make anything like that. Then again, I have bullshit cheating powers on my side, so I should be able to do something substantial.

Hmm. Well, whatever. I'll have time to experiment later.

 _Time?_

Per canon, Delphine plans to party-crash. The Aldmeri party is due to occur sometime in spring, which is…a good Winter Season away, so roughly four to five months by my estimation. It's a lot of time, and going by Skyrim's weather, a lot of that time will be spent either indoors or around the forge, so…yeah.

…

…

 _We return to Whiterun. The trip takes us two days total._

The plan is pretty simple. Delphine will go into hiding at Dragon's Reach (she has good relations with Balgruuf). Normally hiding in the seat of power would be a terrible idea, but at this point Balgruuf already knows about Aldmeri incursions into his territory and has basically forbid them entry.

This sounds like a secondary problem called "Balgruuf's going to ally with the Stormcloaks" but we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

Anyways, Delphine's going to Dragon's Reach. Aria's going to officially join Warwolf and will be in charge of training everyone to the absolute bleeding edge of their ability. She's not a good teacher—too much talent—but when it comes to sparring, you either catch up or she'll bonk you with her sword, so that's at least straightforward.

I'm going to be…

…paying the bills, I suppose. Extermination missions for guilds tend to dry up during winter season (not many people willing to travel to post missions in the first place) so my forge's going to keep Warwolf in the black. While I learn to Enchant, Forge, and Close Quarters Combat.

I am vaguely regretting my life choices. Again. For like the fourth time now, I think?

…

…

[And Time Passes]

…

…

Suddenly, it's spring. Or, at least, as spring as it could be. It's now…one week? After the weather has warmed up and the snow has melted.

Skyrim weather is weird. I don't remember my geography very well, but I'm pretty sure it doesn't have that warm ocean current that the real Nordic areas do. Anyways.

Winter was uneventful.

Warwolf as a guild took quests mostly within the boundaries of the city since going out in the near constant snow would have been problematic. For the most part, the quests were of the boring variety—a lot of skeevers in basements—and the pay was pretty scant. The 'help the guard train' guilds were better, and the T-sisters in particular were highly requested, despite Jake and Erik mostly doing the teaching. I would be lying if I said I was surprised.

T'yanna is the most requested, likely due to her (accidentally or intentionally) bouncing a lot.

Mell's apothecary formally reopened as an annex of the guildhall, and she does good business. Dumbfucks who cut themselves on the knives I sell them can go to her for a quick pick-me-up. Honestly I think some of the younger blokes (the ones just picking up their first knives) cut themselves on purpose just so they can see her.

 _What makes you think that?_

The openly worn signs of Mara is a pretty good indication. Anyways…

Erik's seriously coming along. He, along with Jake and Aria, are improving constantly by sparring with each other. Aria's reflexes are so bullshit fast that he basically _has_ to keep or get punched in the face.

I've largely just been practicing with my craft. Since we're basically expecting battles in the future, I do my day job and then put my night efforts exclusively on making some seriously refined gear for the group.

As a result, (slightly tangential), we've gotten a load of points. I've gained 89 skill points over the winter and Jake's earned 102. Since, again, we're expecting fights, we're spending all but fifty (or so) so we can accommodate any odd changes.

It's a lot of points, so let's get started.

…Actually I don't have a lot. I mean, I do, but I also don't…I put heal and multicast up to 50, and put my elemental masteries to 20 so I have a little more battlefield presence. I then put enchant, dechant, woodwork, and weaponmaking all up to 20, because 20 is a nice number and I like it.

…By the way, it's 'dechant' and not 'disenchant' because dechant specifically deals with removing enchantments from equipment, while disenchant is specifically anti-spell/counterspell. In other words, 'disenchanting' a fire sword means that the sword stops being on fire before it carves into your face, while 'dechanting' a fire sword means that you get a fire enchant out of the deal while being safely free from being carved by said sword.

I thought these two were the same thing until T'nerem straightened that out, but if you think about it they really are one and the same, just with different levels of danger to your personal health.

Anyways, I should learn disenchanting in the future in case we need to do some counterspell combat. Hopefully it's not touched based because I think that would be rather problematic.

Tangent aside, I have 50 points left over at this point, so…Greater Masteries.

I take: Minor and Major Overcast (I can juice my spells more effectively), Forging Template (increased crafting speed), Enchanting Tailor ("can weave enchantments into clothes"), and MANA SHIELD (can use mana to soak damage).

Overcast is pretty bog standard. In this Skyrim you can already spend extra magic power to make your spells more effective, so Overcast is just tweaking the formula to be more efficient. I specifically use it so I'm basically spending zilch mana for regular spells.

Forging Template is…a little weird? Descriptively it says that my speed increases, but the speed increase only applies when I make the same item over and over. That said, it's really good for mass production…except also it's not, because it apparently reduces my item quality somehow. I'll need to test this more to see exactly how it works, but for now if I'm careful I can mass-produce certain items with enough quality that I'm ok with the results.

MANA SHIELD is MANA SHIELD. It will stop me from being insta-gibbed by magic in the very foreseeable future. Given that this isn't a world with bars, I imagine that the shield is going to be lossy in the sense that a strong hit will overcome it.

I had Aria test my resilience against damage before and after mana shield. Pre mana shield she can knock me the fuck out with a single fire bolt. Post…two fire bolts. When I layer it with a ward (or, hell, multiple wards) then I'm basically invulnerable to magic.

Pity that mana shield basically works on the Soviet Defense though.

 _Which is…_

To just throw boatloads of manpower (read: mana) at the problem and hope it fixes itself. I'll learn better methods with time, maybe.

Last is…Enchanting Tailor. I took it because, on the surface, it sounded like a very good idea. After reading it through, I'm no longer sure what it does, or what the implications are. The description literally just says "Can weave enchantments into clothes" and it hurt my eyes reading that, but…So does that mean I can literally weave enchantments into pieces of fabric, or does it just mean that I need this perk to put an enchant onto an article of clothing?

I'm literally just working off of my game knowledge, and this is a complete blindspot…but, either option would make this perk worthwhile, so I'm not complaining.

…I'm now realizing that I have yet to see a single set of magic robes up close ever since I got here. Huh.

Well, anyway. After all that, I got one finishing effect: Negative Cast. Weird name, straightforward effect. I'm allowed to spend up to 200% of my total mana bar in one spell. No constant casts like Healing, Flames, etc. It has to be a one-shot spell.

The bonus mana affects damage, range, splash range, and so on. It's basically a "Fuck you I lose" kind of button, because there is no way I'm using something this all-or-nothing as anything other than a last-ditch effort to get out of trouble. Chekov's gun would imply that I may be using this in the foreseeable future.

Anyhoo. Onto Jake!

He gets Counter up to 100 and calls it a day. That puts him to less than 50 points stored, so he's done.

As for his Greaters, he takes three ranks of Leadership (great/er/est). They boost his…I dunno, ability to lead people? The description just says that it increase his ally's strength, which is kinda vague.

He also takes three ranks of Sword Master (Great/er/est) and now he's even more dangerous with his Greatsword. Funnily enough, Aria still floors him.

Speaking of Aria: the reason why Aria is basically immortal is because she also has non-Dragonborn specific abilities (or so Jake says). Now, we are kind of guessing at these things because asking her to sit still while one of us stared into her eyes got real weird after thirty seconds.

Nevertheless, as far as we can tell, she has: Dragonborn, Underdog, and Adaptable.

Dragonborn is Dragonborn. It gives access to the Dragonborn tech tree (more or less).

Underdog boosts Aria's power based on the enemy she's fighting. You can think of this as being the equivalent of the in-game level system, where the mobs you fight will always be roughly your level. (Until you get high in the levels but let's not worry about that)

Adaptable, then, is the in-game equivalent of the difficulty system. Aria's difficulty slider is basically on 'novice', so she's functionally immortal as long as she's paying attention.

So…yes, Aria's broken. Back to Jake. Or, rather, back to Jake's finishing effects.

Jake got King of Blades, War Leader, and Unbreakable.

King of Blades: a result of sword master and weapons master, basically makes his swords hit even harder. The description specifically points out "final sword effect" which implies that it's a bonus that's applied after the other bonuses are applied. Which means Jake's greatsword effectively deals, like, a million points of damage per hit.

War Leader is a result of leadership and weapons master. Basically all his allies now get bonus xp. Again, we don't really know how this works.

Unbreakable is…weirdly named. Effect-wise, it gives him a second 'Unstoppable', where he gets a 50% armor break. So now he…I dunno, negates 75% of enemy armor? We'll see how this works.

…

Otherwise, having Delphine in Dragon's Reach was a definite plus for me specifically. Delphine is not an official guest of the castle and therefore can't stay for long periods of time (plausible deniability and all that) so she comes and goes to the Warwolf hall. In order to facilitate her easier travel, we basically gave her a makeover.

Basically, presentation is key. If you watched Delphine walk…well, Delphine has a very "I know what I'm doing" kind of walk. She exudes confidence in all matters, and there's a definite sense of danger with her that could only come from decades upon decades of rigorous training. Being in hiding in Riverwood hasn't changed that in any way.

Which, of course, means that anybody who has a pair of eyes could tell that she's no minor noble idling at court. Which means that we kind of have to force her to sashay a little, which…she does, kinda. Sorta. Ulimately it looks too stupid and we settle on a guard outfit. She also gets a job to train the Whiterun guards to help make that cover stick.

Anyways, Delphine being in Dragon's Reach is good for me, because it meant I got access to Farengar Secret-Fire.

Farengar is…also a shit teacher. He's better than Aria by virtue of not relying on inborn talent, but he has a tendency of doing a lot of showing off and not a lot of teaching. He is, however, rather well versed in the art of enchantment. I think. I don't have a lot of points of comparison.

Regardless, over the winter, I've taken the time to learn enchanting from him. It is, as expected, a time consuming and magic intensive process.

What we know already: You need a spell to enchant into an object, then failsafes so that the spell doesn't do literally everything else under the sun.

What we didn't know: how to get that spell to go into an object and stay there.

In a nutshell, there exists two ways to get an enchantment to stay in its target. One is to use a shell spell to ensure that the enchantment stays where it should. This is the most common method, is the easiest skill-wise, and has the biggest drawbacks—namely, the enchantment needs to be refreshed on an almost daily basis. The best enchanters in this method can last for up to a month before the shell has to be repaired.

Option two is to weave the spell into the object, to put the enchant into the object on a fundamental level. This is more or less a lost art, since a lot of mythical old objects are enchanted in this fashion.

In practice, what usually happens is a mix of type 1 and type 2, with type 1 taking dominance. The enchantment will 'rub off' on an object after some time, which means that…say, a sword whose fire enchant has expired can be 're-enchanted' with the same or a more powerful enchant for reduced cost.

Type 1's also more common because, as I think I've mentioned before, people can innately regenerate enchanted objects with their own magical power. It offsets some of the problems, so that's nice.

Now, I'm calling it a 'shell' like it's a catch-all term, but…the reality is that I basically need a tangential power to an enchant in order to encase it, which…sucks, because such a power does not exist. In order to enchant an object, the tangential power is effectively unique to the object+enchant combination. It is a lot of guesswork, a lot of trial and error, and a lot of "oops I fucked up I guess I need a new item and have to start this entire process over again."

So…yeah. Good Enchanters are highly sought after. Farengar is, by his own unhumble admission, an Enchanter of "passing quality".

After learning about all this, I've basically spent my winter learning how to properly enchant with type 1. I want to do type 2 for massively overpowered shenanigans, but…learn to walk before running, and so forth.

To that effect, I've broken a total of…588 daggers with no result to show for it. I'm learning, I think, but the result is never satisfactory, and the dagger never survives the attempt. I've been making the best Daggers I can (along with a 'Please Be Good For Enchant' wish imbued into a small ruby). Obviously, it's not helping.

Sigh.

Welp, the 589th, here goes nothing. I suppose if nothing else, I've learned why people don't slap multiple enchants onto the same object. Having a 0.01% success rate raised to the fifth power or whatever doesn't strike me as being good for business.

Anyways.

 _We have our enchanter's table, five petty soulstones, the book of Fire Enchant, and the dagger in the middle._

There was a brief time in which I experimented with using more soulstones. That just added more overhead and made things harder.

Ok, here goes.

…The Fire Enchant goes into the first gem, and gems 2 and 3 act as power overflow.

…Looks good…looks good…aaand problem.

 _Wisps of the magic being used for the enchant is leaking._

Spin spin spin. I can stop the leakage by using the enchant itself as 'corks' of a sort. I don't know how it works, don't ask me how it works.

…Eventually, the leaking stops and the enchant stabilizes, which means that, instead of energy radiating out in wisps, it's now radiating out like heat. Time to apply the shell.

 _We build the mana shell over the enchant bit by bit, using the 'corks' as fulcrums to help keep the entire thing stable._

Easy, easy…

 _Suddenly, the entire setup begins to rumble._

WELP

Gems 4 and 5 come into play here.

 _The rumbling reduces, but it's not enough. The dagger's blade cracks down the middle._

Hmm. Before, I tried using more gems to help stabilize the rumbling somehow, but…nothing doing, I guess. Ugh.

 _We gather the broken dagger to melt it back down again._

Waste not want not. 490! Stiff upper lip, let's do this. 590. 590. It's actually 590.

 _We set everything back up again._

What haven't I tried yet? I've tried to leave the wisps of mana as-is, reducing the power, increasing the power, making the shell first…

…What if I make the shell along with the enchant? The idea of running power through the entire object had merit, and using a 'wire' to act as a conduit for the enchant…well…it didn't fail as badly as this, I guess. Which isn't to say that it worked, I suppose. Hrm.

…Yeah, let's try that. Let's try to apply the enchant bit by bit, like soaking a sponge.

…What if the Dagger is the sponge?

 _We prep a pile of soulstones._

I don't know how many I'll need for this. I still get stuck in the whole 'one soulstone, one enchant' mentality that the Dragonborn espouses, and it takes me some tries to get out of it. Let's give this another go.

I ready five soulstones and put Fire into all of them. Then, I put the Dagger in the middle and allow their energy to permeate the Dagger before trying to bind the two things together. Before, I was just binding the things together.

 _The energy of the Enchant has some difficulty entering._

…That's weird. Usually it goes in just like that. Let's not force it. Allow the magic weapon sex to happen organically, and focus on building the shell.

…

…Yeah, this method shows more promise. The shell's coming out incredibly stable, and pieces of it that are not stable crumbles by themselves without taking the entire process with it. The shell making process is taking three soulstones.

…The Fire Enchant is going well. It seems to have completely stabilized, and the sheath is active without issue. The problem now is…the Fire Enchant has almost no power behind it. At its current condition, it may as well be the Firefly ring but worse in every conceivable way.

Let's try to add mo-NOPE

 _The instant we try to add power into the Dagger, the entire system starts to lurch._

Not doing that. Let's…no, adding power to a single gem also causes everything to lurch.

…So power has to be added uniformly along all five gems? Cripes. Let's use _another_ gem to act as a distributive focus to help everything along.

 _Power starts dripping into the five Enchant gems, which then drips into the Dagger._

This is like…trickledown economics in its most bastardized form. I don't even know.

If the top gem's larger, then the trickle effect would be higher, I imagine. As it is now, it's going at a snail's pace. Adding more gems risk unsettling the system. Maybe if I added another tier? Like, have a starting gem that drips into different segments of gems, before they go into the enchant gems?

…then again, the problem right now is that the power isn't going into the Dagger fast enough. More would be better if there isn't a danger of the entire system shattering immediately.

Still, this is good. Everything looks good.

 _An hour later._

The Dagger has stopped receiving power and nothing is bleeding out. I consider this a rousing success. Let's see here…

 _The Dagger is cool to the touch._

…well, that's faintly disappointing. It's actually really disappointing, not gonna lie. It doesn't look like the Enchant took at all.

Maybe there's something else I'm missing. The Dagger has its own soulstone, so it's not like the enchant doesn't have a place to stay…this is depressing.

 _There's a knock at the door to my enchanting lab._

"Come in." I say. I feel very defeated right now.

Older Sister opens the door, then quickly darts away to clear the path for the actual client.

"Hello there." Farengar Secret-Fire smiles at me. "I take it today has been productive so far?"

"Fuck you." I grumble.

"Indeed." Farengar laughs. "It looks like you have something that didn't explode at last." He takes the Dagger in his hands. "Is something wrong?" He asks upon seeing my face.

This is so frustrating. "I don't know what I'm doing and I keep feeling like I'm so close, but no. It's just not going to work." I'm not

This sucks.

"I think you're being rather hard on yourself." Farengar pats my shoulder. "Enchanting is an art that takes decades to learn, and you've made exceptional progress over the course of a single winter. Come."

He gently but firmly drags me outside. I just want to sit down right now, I'm…well, not tired, per se, but I'm depressed and it makes me want to sit down.

"More importantly, you've forgotten the most important part of an enchanted weapon." Farengar says with a coy smile and _I want to punch his face_ so bad _right now._

But I hold. "What?"

"Magic weapons do not radiate power. They _should_ _not_ radiate power." He says with insistence and points the Dagger to the ground. "I understand that you were expecting something else, but—"

A plume of fire erupts from the Dagger and slams into the ground.

"JESUS!" Faregar exclaims and drops the Dagger. "What did you do?!" He demands of me and the Dagger.

 _The amount of time we've spent together means he has taken some of our language when it comes to issues of sudden flares and dangers._

…What did I do? I don't know what I did. "I've just been soaking it inside the enchant." Which is certainly true. But…

 _We retrieve the Dagger._

It doesn't feel any different from what had just happened. Hmm…

 _We close our eyes and feel inside the Dagger for the magic source that make up the enchant. We can't find it._

Was he fucking with me? "How did you make it do that?" I ask Farengar. I demand from Farengar.

"Enchanted weapons require an igniter." He says. "That igniter is needed to get past the shell."

…Make sense, in retrospect. Power locked in a weapon wouldn't just come out just because you're holding on to it. I'd like it if you told me what the igniter 'was', though. Still, if he's calling it an igniter, then that implies that it's something different from the shell itself. If I tried to make an anti-shell, that might just undo the entire system, and that would be bad…?

…then how did Farengar do it?

 _We concentrate on some Flames. Nothing happens._

Hm. "Farengar?" I'm a little desperate now.

"You of all people should know your magic." Farengar says. "Calm down and concentrate. This comes easier when you're more used to it."

Ok. Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

…Actually, what is he doing here in the first place?

 _The sudden distraction in thought causes us to find the igniter._

HOLY FUCK

 _The Dagger, now in our hands and pointed very much so to the sky, ignites and creates a plume of fire that's a good twenty feet long._

HOLY…TOTALLY NOT USEFUL, BATMAN. WHAT DO I DO OH MY GOD

 _As quickly as it came, it evaporates again._

It…what just happened? "Farengar!"

"Hey, you made that thing!" He laughs. "You explain!"

…Is there a way for me to control the energy emission? Let's see…oh, the Igniter is super easy to find this time.

 _The sword of fire appears again for another five seconds before vanishing. We, now totally engrossed in our work, do not notice Farengar's shocked expression._

 _Some two minutes later, after we calm down._

Actually, let's get this out of the way before I forget. "Farengar, what are you doing here, anyways?"

Farengar's mirth has vanished and has been replaced with his professional snark. "As you know, Spring is here."

Yes, I think I noticed.

"The Imperial and Stormcloak armies are on the campaigning path, and we have reason to believe that Whiterun is the target." He waves to Jake, who may have just left the building to see what the giant flame dildo was all about. "Should be apparent to all, but Whiterun doesn't plan to simply do nothing behind its walls."

Hm. "Who are we aligning with?"

"The Imperials." Farengar says dispassionately. "Though the Jarl finds working with them distasteful, considering the presence of the Dominion within their ranks, it remains true that working with the Imperials is the fastest way to end this civil war. Only then can we begin to address the innate problems plaguing the Empire."

Ok, what about Delphine?

"So where do we play into this?" Jake asks.

Farengar gets to the point. "The Jarl would like to make sure that Whiterun isn't in a position of weakness. To do so, he would have to contribute to the war effort."

…Oh.

"When the Stormcloaks become aware that Whiterun has shifted its allegiances, they will attack." Farengar says. "When that happens, the Jarl would like at least two companies to devote to the cause."

Eek. A company in Skyrim is a unit of roughly 100 men, with a completely variable makeup. It is entirely possible to have a company of nothing but healers. That won't happen because healers are too rare to congregate into one company, but uh…the risk is there.

"So why are you telling us this?" Jake asks.

"Should be obvious." Farengar says. "The Whiterun guard has more tasks than just being mustered for war. The Jarl is relying mostly on mercenaries to make up these two companies."

Makes sense, I guess. "Who should we talk to about the pay, then?" I ask.

…

It takes around two days for the two companies to be mustered.

For the record, Jake and I are against this whole idea because it takes away from our flexibility, our ability to move as our own unit. On the flip side, Aria is not going anywhere, and our justification of being able to do whatever the hell we want doesn't hold up very well under examination.

…More pragmatically, this outfit pays well and is a good way for me to get experience without having to foist over my own resources, plus it advances the civil war storyline.

As such, Warwolf is now integrated into the 2nd Whiterun Company, and we make up…nine units, plus two hanger-ons (my girls). There does not seem to be a mission, or else any kind of company cohesion…Jake is basically the de-facto leader of the Company by virtue of being the man that everyone in the unit respects. The actual leader is some dude from a bigger Mercenary company.

Hm. Even though I called it 'mustering' there's actually no mustering happening. Everyone belonging to the two companies each have a semi-magic proof of…company…ship? It works the same way as the guild roster sheets.

Well, if we're not immediately being called up to do whatever then I can just get back to work.

…I just jinxed it, didn't I.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

If you have something to say then please leave it as a non-guest review. There are a lot of good points being made that I want to address but can't because I don't like to put that kind of stuff on the story proper.

But as a general reminder about inconsistencies: Ash is usually the POV and he is…perhaps not the most reliable narrator. If you notice, he's not above flat out lying for the sake of making the narrative more interesting.

 _Though usually I come in and set things straight._


	14. The Crown Capture Experience

{ === + === }

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

I really should have seen this coming.

Like, I really, _really_ , should have seen this coming.

 _We are currently travelling with the two Whiterun Companies deeper into Imperial territory._

I'm one of the six smiths in the camp, and EVERY. FUCKING. TIME. When we have to stop, at least half of the unit has some kind of issue that needs to be addressed.

I don't think I ever internalized just how often weapons break. Like…fuck. Well, not _break_ break, just, y'know, chips and dents and shit, but

 _Ahem._

Right, right.

At the moment, the two Companies of Whiterun are marching deeper into contested turf in order to provide assistance for one of its missions. That mission is, of course, the search for the Jagged Crown.

…or, at least, it probably is. We were just told to go to some place named 'Korva'something.

The good thing about having hundred-man units is that we're bulky while still being relatively fast, so the trip to this place is projected to take only two weeks.

Fun fact: An Imperial 'Company' is roughly 150 men while a Skyrim one is roughly 100. This will in no way be confusing in the future.

Also fun fact: A Skyrim Division is five Companies, and a Skyrim Army is five Divisions. Of course normal people don't really give two fucks and will use these terms interchangeably to describe whatever unit sizes they want. I, as a normal person, will be doing the same unless I remember.

Anyways, we smith folk don't get a lot of free time, because every time we camp we need to set up the anvils, and every time we break camp we have to pack up the anvils. Good thing the rest of them have the common decency to help us out.

So…yeah. We started…oh, five days ago? There was a call for reinforcements sent to Whiterun (likely for political reasons) and the two companies were mustered four days ago. It's therefore day three of our journey and the spring rain makes me hate everything. They needed reinforcements in two different areas (convenient) and the two companies were sent to different sectors. The one we're not attached to is going northwest closer to Solitude. If there wasn't a swamp between Whiterun and Solitude I'd envy them.

The place we're going to is basically on the cusp of Whiterun and Stormcloak territories (and Dawnstar). Since we're only a Company as opposed to something larger, we have relatively good speed despite the need to take a more roundabout approach to avoid alerting the Stormcloaks that something's up. One reason for our speed is because our group has a grand total of seven wagons. One to four include foodstuffs and daily necessities, five and six are camp material (ones that we don't carry with us), seven is the forge equipment exclusively.

It's a good thing that we're a bunch of mercenaries and therefore has no unit cohesion or else this entire business of maintaining morale and speed would have been exceptionally difficult. I am, of course, being extremely sarcastic. Oh well, it's not like it's something I have control over.

"Um." A small voice says next to me.

I of course begin paying absolute and total attention. "Yes?"

"Is this ok?" Big Sister shows me the strip of cloth she's working on.

 _She is…_

Learning to sew! Over the winter she's gotten comfortable enough with us to talk, just a little. First thing out of her mouth was a demand (ish) for something to do. So we're teaching her how to sew…largely because the current conditions make other kind of work harder to do.

So she's learning to do stitches for now and _her voice is so cute oh my god_

"It looks good." I say and take the offered little cloth and give it a light tug. It unravels. "Though it looks like you still have a little bit to go." I smile and give her headpats. "Keep at it."

"Me too! Me too!" Little Sister is a lot more vibrant, as per her personality. She jumps in for headpats. Which I oblige.

Little Sister is a lot less…erm, calm? Than Big Sister, and as she got more familiar with me she got more rambunctious and inquisitive. I can't quite get her to sit down in the same way as her sister, so Little Sister is learning magic instead.

For the record: Flames and Healing are not innate, but semi-innate: they're easy spells to learn and can be learned through just watching and mimicry (like spoken language), but formal lessons make them more effective. That makes me feel a lot better about not knowing them right off the bat, to be honest.

Anyoo, Little Sister is learning to use Flames to heat up water. Jake's newfound (ish) abilities to Identify helped us find something mint-like while marching. I harvested some grass and turned that little bit of mint into like ten pounds of mint, so she's learning to make a little tea. He says it's not poisonous and I see no reason to doubt him.

 _You still fed him five cups of the stuff before you were satisfied._

Jake's got an innately good constitution and basically never gets sick. If I wanted to test a poison on him I'd have to do at least that much.

Anyhoo, the two of them are taking a spot on the 8th Warwolf-specific cart. No spare horses could be…spared…so Aria, with her Ethereal Dire Wolf, is the reason why we have a little bonus. The fact that she's so pretty definitely played a part to that. Hell, the fact that 80% of Warwolf is so pretty likely resulted in that kind of special treatment. Aria's cart carries things Warwolf uses, mostly rawmats and crafting gear for me and Mell.

"I'm making mad bank on this trip." Mell says at about the 8th day. Also, what? "Jake taught it to me." She adds upon seeing my stare.

 _We have made camp on this 8th day._

"Hey guys!" A young-ish voice says. "Look what I got!"

One of T'yanna's boy toys shows us the rabbit he's managed to trap.

 _Erm._

T'yanna the Orange is…a bit of a serial flirt, I guess? She has a very good understanding of how to spin people around her little finger and it's actually very impressive. As of right now she's got three bright-eyed young'uns from one of the other mercenary forces to hunt for her.

"Oh, that's wonderful!" She claps. "Let's cook it together!" She says, indicating both her and her other two…I really shouldn't call them boy toys. Like she's not leading them on or anything, she's just…really easy to approach, I suppose.

Well, if the three guys think they have a shot, I guess that makes them boy toys. Says a lot about her crowd management skills when none of the three are well they're staring daggers at each other so nevermind. She's a big girl, she can do what she wants.

 _And what are we doing?_

I've learned to be patient with regards to my enchanting, so I've spent the past eight days working on some clothing for myself.

It is very important to note that, at this point in time, I do not have any serious armor with me. The only thing I have is my shoddy leather armor which…has gotten worse over time, so I'm due for a retrofit. Offense-wise I have some of my swords from the forge and the Phallic Infernal Dagger Of Verily Extremities. PIDOVE.

Jake's responsible for that name and considering that he took the better part of three hours to get the words right(ish) I feel obligated to at least give said name an honorable mention. I will refer to the dagger as a prototype fire dagger because I have comparatively less naming sense.

Anyways, since I don't really have the time to do my own metalwork due to literally everybody else breaking their metal stuff on a daily basis, my new armor is cloth. Cloth + cheaty bullshit.

I've also tried to enchant and…um. It didn't _not_ work?

To elaborate:

My armor is basically a shirt, except…y'know, I've broken every law conceivable to produce it. For starters, the base material is spider thread. I got this idea after making Mint from…not-Mint, after having Mint as a reference. I got a little spider thread because one of our boxes had a little spider, and then I basically Transmuted leftover bunches of foodstuffs into that thread. Since spider thread is biological and food is also biological, transmuting the two was probably not as tiring as if I had used, say, pebbles.

I then weaved that thread into workable thread (of a kitting kind), then transmuted some yarn I had into that workable thread. THEN, I actually got into weaving the thread into what is basically a square centimeter of material.

Then, because obviously why cheat if you can't go all the way, I use a mix of Transmute and Rapid Production to make more of that material out of discarded bags, along with Replace to get rid of impurities that the perk abuse would likely cause. I think.

Anyways, the result is a long-sleeved shirt-pants combo (plus gloves) that's very soft to the touch and…well, is basically made of spun steel. Over that spidersilk shirt is a comparatively more normal shirt to act as a disguise, and in between is yet another shirt made of superdense cotton (Replace™) that acts as a buffer against bash attacks.

The entire setup is a little toasty, but I can keep myself cooled off indefinitely with frost, so it's not like I care. Given the material involved I think the shirt is rather flammable, so there's now a very good chance I take 3000% damage from all sources of flames. Like I'm basically perma-doused in gasoline.

Regardless, the best part about the spidersilk shirt is the fact that Big Sister made the cuffs for them, and that Little Sister decorated the cuffs with some wildflowers she found.

The reason why enchanting didn't _not_ work is because I basically tried to weave some frost into the thread, to help give it some fire resistance. It did not shatter during creation, which is a good thing. During testing, the outfit did not singe, which is also a good thing, but I don't know if that was because I was holding my punches. Either way, I'm crossing my fingers…and also, y'know, gonna steer clear from fire. Just in case.

…Real glad I made the cuffs kinda short, because can you imagine if my own Flames made my outfit catch on fire?

…

[End of Travel]

…

Between training, work, and the occasional skirmish against roving bands of animals, Jake and I earned 24 and 32 points respectively.

Jake puts his points into defender, which makes him tankier.

I, with the need to store 50 points, spend 20 of it on capping magic recovery, then distribute the other 12 into my crafting perks. I don't think I appreciate just how much I've been neglecting them. I get Magic Attunement as a finishing effect (mana cap +25%). Not flashy, but still welcome.

…I am coming to the realization that I could have made some seriously kickass shit if I just devoted myself to…to…erm…putting everything into cheating more seriously? I guess?

I should count my blessing already, no?

Anyhoo.

We've finished our travel to the Korva place, and, per Skyrim weather, it has started to snow. There's an imperial camp that looks rather hastily raised, and that is very likely our mission target.

"Hail." An Imperial soldier says as our captain approaches. "I take it your reinforcements sent from Whiterun?"

"That we are." The captain says, showing off a small plaque with the Whiterun symbol engraved on it. "What's the situation?"

"You're better off asking the captain." The soldier says and gestures to where this 'Korva' place should be. "She's up there."

Now, I don't remember where the location is, but going by maps and relative position, I think we're on the mission where we get the crown and return it to one side or the other.

 _Our group drop off our stuff at the camp and proceed closer to Korvanjund._

"Finally." The Imperial captain…what's her face? Stands to greet us with a stiff and compulsory salute. "Welcome to the Korvanjund warcamp."

"Whiterun one-oh-one 'Screaming Eagles', at your service." The captain salutes. "I am captain Marcus."

 _Um._

It was decided that the company needed a name, and the combined suggestion between myself and Jake was accepted.

"Well, Marcus, you've arrived at a good time." The…I'm gonna call her the Commander from now on. The Commander says. "Are you aware of our current condition?"

Marcus shakes his head no.

…

[Exposition]

…

Hm. Ok.

So, this is, indeed, the mission where we seize a MacGuffin from within the cold undead hands of a Draugur while we also fight off enemies from the opposing faction. Obviously, we're up against the Stormcloaks.

I'm not entirely sure how the narrative in the game went, but here, the Stormcloaks made the first move against this…tomb? And have been holed up here for a good three weeks before the Imperials got wind of exactly what was going on. At the moment, the Imperials have two Companies trying to break into the tomb. Well, they started with two, anyway.

The reason why they're not just, y'know, trying to siege out the Stormcloaks, is because a Stormcloak army of some unknown size is marching to relieve this position. There's every chance that the relieving army is bigger than two Companies, and therefore we need to do this fast.

…fast-ish. The weather is unpredictable and rough at times, and the Stormcloak army is likely either A) Not going to be that fast or else B) require additional time to rally and organize to a point of being able to fight an Imperial company effectively.

Either way, the conservative timeline is four days. It's likely going to take the Stormcloaks longer to get to us, but four is the fastest possible time.

 _And how is it estimated?_

By assuming that a Stormy Dude is going to march constantly from dawn to dusk.

…Also, worth noting: there was no mention of Draugur, which implies that the Imperials either 1) have no idea that the insides of the tomb is a fucking death trap, or else 2) they know but are not telling us.

Hrm. Well, either way, we as a group know about the Draugur because we (me, Jake, Aria) already told everybody.

Anyhoo, the Screaming Eagles enter the…um. Kirva.

…

Like the game (kinda), the immediate entrance, past the gate, is an ad-hoc campground with most of the intruding team's supplies. Unlike the game, the Stormcloaks have already been pushed deeper into Kirva, and the camp has basic functionalities like beds, a campfire, foodstuffs, so on.

Going by the flags and some of the decoration, I'm going to assume that the Imperials didn't set this camp up.

 _There are Stormcloak signs here and there painted over with smears of blood._

Also, there seems to be roughly twenty wounded and thirty dead, if the dead are covered with white linen. I assume these dead are not Draugur because I'm reasonably certain that people would be freaking the fuck out if they did.

…We should probably also burn them just in case?

Either way.

 _We go to heal folks while Marcus goes to deal with the camp's Captain._

"How goes the battle?" Marcus asks when the formalities are out of the way.

"Harsh." The Captain (name's Orden) says. "There are too many dead angles and dark corners in the halls. The Stormcloaks are well equipped with Fireball scrolls and constant ambush us with attacks."

That explains the shitton of burn wounds. I'm getting so much experience dealing with burn wounds. "Prep some hot water and bandages."

 _"Aye." One of the other Eagle healers say and does as told._

"Fireballs, huh?" Marcus probably throws a look my way. "Good to know. Is it all scrolls? How fast are they recovering?"

Scrolls don't disappear after one use, but it takes some time before the inscribed magic recovers. Bigger spells obviously take longer to recover, and leaving scrolls in the hands of mages make them recover faster. Either way I'm not getting anywhere _near_ that shit.

"Far too fast." Orden says. "The enemy is difficult to dislodge, and all the help is necessary." Pause. "As you can see, we've many wounded and morale is very low."

 _Orden's pause was him looking at the rows and rows of wounded that we are currently tending to._

I spare a look at the remaining men gathered around the few campfires here. They don't seem like a happy bunch.

"I understand." Marcus says. "We'll begin operations immediately. Do you have any maps we can use?"

As those guys start looking at the maps, we're finished with immediate care on the soldiers. I should note that these guys do have their own healers, but they're rather heavily tapped out by the hefty workload. It also doesn't help that they have to constantly fight against the dirty environment.

 _Currently, the Sisters are helping some of the 101 Novice healers change bandages and clean wounds. Little Sister is very insistent that each wound be "cleared perfetly" because she can't pronounce the 'c' easily._

I think it's the cutest thing, though she can probably stand to tone down her voice a bit.

…

After about thirty minutes, the 101 has prepared five strike units (4 men each), two support units (6 men each), and a vanguard (3-man team). Strike unit's job is to scour dead corners, vanguard is to drive deep, and support is to mop up.

To note, I'm staying back at camp to heal, Jake's in the vanguard, and Mell's with one of the support units to provide immediate potion access.

"Don't get overeager." Marcus reminds them. "We don't know the full situation, so be aware of ambushes." He stares straight at Jake. "They're in your care, Jake."

"Aye." Jake grins and winks at him. "Alright, let's move out!"

 _Hoo-ah!_

…

…

Healing, healing, healing…

Work, Work.

 _We do not notice, at all, the analytical eyes of Orden as he stands back to watch us direct our team of six clerics, four T-Sisters, and two Girls. After some time, he makes a small motion to the Imperial Clerics, who nod slightly and then strategically offer support. The fact that their support is carefully tailored to make us use different means of healing escapes us as well._

…

…

By the time I've put heals on all the downed Imperial folk, one of oh my lord

 _Mell's support team comes back on stretchers._

One…two…five…

Nine wounded, with Mell being one of them. Some burns, a cut to her leg, nothing big.

"More beds!" I command. The Imperial Clerics dutifully lay out nine clean sheets that I had them wash and the injured get put on them.

 _Quick Examination!_

Mell's injuries are pretty light, so I quickly clean her up, pump in heals, and move on.

 _When we start healing Mell, Orden almost tries to comment._

Hardest wounded is…this guy. Wow he's about bleeding out. "Mell, give me a hand with this." Maybe I shouldn't have practiced nepotism.

"Right." Mell sits up, stands (with a little help from T-Mare) and starts looking over the near-corpse with me. She quickly gets something like a blood transfusion potion and pours it into the man's mouth.

 _Orden blinks in surprise at how quickly Mell gets onto her feet._

The transfusion potion is basically some of Jake's blood (O negative) mixed with a bog-standard healing potion. Mell came up with the idea after we (me and Jake) explained blood type to her. It's…seriously effective at replenishing blood.

Anyways, this guy is now out of critical and I can hand off the work to two Apprentices. Moving on!

 _We quickly tend to the nine people, taking care of the bulk of the healing while the less skilled Clerics take care of lesser injuries, bandaging, and cleaning. Orden has a slightly dropped jaw after an Imperial Cleric tells him that the nearly dead dude is going to be fine._

 _At this point, Mell has noticed that we (Ash) is being watched, but can't get a word in edge-wise since we're so focused on healing._

Whew. Nobody's dead, but man that's close. "The hell happened?" I ask one of the not-downed dudes. A Novice's bandaging him up.

"Ambush." The guy says. "One of the strike teams found a Stormcloak unit and attacked, but they got fireballed for their trouble." He then makes a circular motion with his finger. "And then as soon as the Support unit got there another group hit us, rinse and repeat." He sighs. "If it weren't for the Mountain none of us would be standing."

I narrow my eyes. He's ok, yes?

"He's digging in with the other guys." The guy explains. "He said something about taking a forward position so they don't have to start from the beginning every time."

"We tried that. Didn't work too well." Orden says. "Tell 'The Mountain' to return to base."

Marcus overrules him. "If it's the Mountain, it should be fine. Have some of our archers and battlemages move up as well, we'll take that area so he can come back to rest."

At those words, the rest of the 101 stand and prepare to move deeper inwards.

"Watch out for those fireballs." Orden says with a sigh. "You there. Healer." He adds.

 _We pay him no attention because it doesn't even cross our mind that he's talking to us. We begin packing up with the rest of the unit._

"Sir Healer!" Orden calls out, louder. Person's not paying attention, I see. "The man with his daughters!" Oh he's talking to me

Well now I'm embarrassed. "Yes?"

"Forgive me but I do not know your name." Orden salutes apologetically.

Yeah, that's kind of my fault. "Name's Ash." I salute back. "What do you need?"

 _Orden grimaces inwardly at the lack of respect for chain of command._

"I can see that you have a talent for the school of restoration." Orden says. "I'd like to request your services for the moment."

…That sounds an awful lot like an order. "Marcus?"

"Sure." Marcus says. "We've plenty of healers on our own. If you're worried about the Mountain, we'll task some of our healers to Warwolf as needed."

"I'll go!" One of the healers (young girl, Apprentice) _immediately_ steps up. Given the excited glint in her eye I'd say this is another notch to Jake's harem belt. I think I may be underestimating how much people value raw force of arms around here.

"Alright." I nod. "Good luck out there, Marcus."

He nods in reply.

 _And shares a look with Orden that we don't catch._

"Thank you." Orden says graciously. "Our own healers are exhausted from the workload, and every extra hand helps."

So why just me, huh? Besides, it's not like I'll be doing anything different.

 _More like 'please finish up your work' rather than anything else._

Seriously.

Anyway, the rest of the 101 finishes their preparations and moves deeper in. Ok, let's see here…

…

[Some Hours Later]

…

I've finished healing the fifty casualties.

 _Fifty?_

You know how healing lets people get back on their feet real fast? Well, in a situation where every man is critical, that translates to freshly healed people getting shoved back into frontline combat. I'm not a psychologist, but I get the feeling that being told to go _back_ into a fireball-infested tunnel is probably not good for morale.

Either way, fifty casualties, counting the twenty that was here before I got here. The other thirty were a mix of Imperial and 101 units, all with considerable wounds. I think the seriously wounded are probably being shuffled back here for better treatment because I'm awesome.

…though I have to wonder at how many fatalities we've taken so far. Considering that we've been told about the existence of _two_ companies here, the fact that they have less than 150 men on the field is not heartening. Either way, now that the backlog of healing is cleared out, we're now able to move the support camp closer to the front line.

Also _fuck_ indoor levels, man. There're basically no torches around here so I have to pop magelight like crazy. It cuts into my mana pool which, as I have discovered today, is not actually bottomless. I mean, in the sense that 'oh wow I actually have to stop healing' sense rather than 'I suddenly lose the ability to use magic at all' sense. I know about that second one.

At around the six-hour mark I tapped out and had to rest for an hour or so, and afterwards I felt pretty drained. Regen aside I still have mana, so that's good. My regeneration rate scales inversely with my usage rate (over some amount of time, haven't found out what), which makes sense in retrospect. If I blow a lot of my mana very quickly (read: reviving the nearly dead) I basically don't regenerate for a while since the rate is so slow.

 _As we mull it over, the back camp (that we're attached to) finish its move closer to the front lines, and we return to service with the 101._

So if I keep my expenditures light then I'll be fine…that is…wow. The fuck, dude?

 _Jake is sitting in the immediate backup camp lit by dim magelight. He looks like he's been through hell, though he's still standing. Next to him is the Apprentice Girl Healer, who looks like she's badly out of her depth as he tries to reassure her that the flood of blood isn't her fault._

"Hey." Jake greets me weakly as I approach. My girls start to roll out bandages even before I say anything. They're so great.

Also. "The fuck happened, dude?" He's got a bloody bandage over his left eye, his right arm is badly burned, and his leg is bent in a terrible-looking angle. "Mell, pot me." I need more mana (maybe).

"You sure? You look like you could use rest." Mell says, but hands over a mana potion anyway. I down it quickly and get to work on Jake's wounds.

 _We're now so experienced at making hot water with magic that we're basically shooting hot water from our hands. Quantity-wise it's not much, but it does mean that we can do just-in-time cleaning of his wounds as necessary. Apprentice Healer watches in utter shock and fascination, muttering something like "they never taught this during training." Little Sister was the only one who heard and flashes her a proud and cheeky grin in reply._

"I think I get why the Imperials are having a rough time." Jake says lightly. Beyond the camp, I can hear the sounds of muffled explosions and shouting. "They're still going at it." He says as I get deeper into his giant list of injuries.

Well…while I'm doing this. "What's the situation?"

…

[Exposition]

…

So…the 101 did pretty well at the beginning, but then they got to the chokepoint™ and things started to go sideways.

The chokepoint is a pair of rooms deeper in the dungeon connected by a pair of paths (one low, one high). The low path is basically a narrow corridor that screams "fireball me" and the high path is held firmly by the Stormcloaks.

What happened afterwards was basically six hours of Stormcloaks hunkering down and sending detachments over the second entrance. Apparently, people moving around stealthily are _really, really hard to spot_ when the rest of the chamber is like 90% fireballs and 110% screaming.

Point is, the Stormcloaks were able to break out small detachments and being enclosed in a small space with one dude who carries like ten fireball scrolls is a terrible idea. Also, being enclosed in a small space with relatively poor lighting is a really bad idea when at least one of those scrolls is a super, duper bright magelight.

 _As in: the Stormcloaks sneak in, release 1 flash and 10 fireballs (or so), and then retreat._

That flashbang is what got to Jake, by the way. His group got ganked by two Stormcloak units (around eight people in total) and got totally disoriented. Apparently the Stormcloaks knew about him as well and they called backup, so by the time the rescue unit got to him he was basically being machine-gunned(ish) by fireballs.

The fact that he took so much punishment and is otherwise standing is kind of incredible.

"But yeah, they're spending extra time cleaning up the Stormcloaks that ran through." Jake says. "Between that and the whole 'having to break through' business with the rest of 'em dug in, we haven't really made any progress."

"Story of this fight." Orden agrees. "This is where we were last time before they launched an attack that heavily pushed us back."

Hmm. "You can't do what they're doing?" I ask him.

Orden shakes his head slightly. "We've neither the mages or scrolls to do the same level of damage that the Stormcloaks were doing."

"Speaking of which." T'yanna brings out a trio of scrolls. "I nicked these off of a Stormcloak as he was retreating." She says…how? "I also stabbed him." Oh. She hands them over to me. "Ten says you've got good grounding as a mage. Think you can make heads or tails of these?"

Why me? I take them anyway because hey, free scrolls. "I'll try."

 _Ten's (one of) their nicknames for T'nerem._

Hmm…looking at the scrolls, I assume the patterns drawn on them is the pattern necessary for casting fireball. Currently, the lines are a dull, dark maroon color.

"Remember that I just gave you energy." Mell says. "Don't waste it on charging scrolls."

I wasn't about to. "I know." I set the scrolls aside for now and focus on healing Jake.

…

 _We continue to heal for around thirty minutes._

…

The fact that the sounds of battle never seemed to drop throughout all those thirty minutes is a bit unnerving. Regardless, "Ok, that should do it."

Jake takes off the bandages around his head. "Eye's a little blurry." He blinks a few times to adjust to his newly regrown eye. "Should I be sleeping it off?"

"Probably, yeah." I yawn. "My hands are shaking so I don't think I did a very good job." I am actually exhausted, so my healing work's likely suffering as a result. I'm starting to get a tingly sensation but can still heal, so I think I'm running on fumes.

"You're a fucking godsend, you know that?" Jake stands and hops around a little.

 _We're too busy yawning to notice the gaping mouths and stares thrown in our direction. Jake definitely notices and winks back at the onlookers. We have, in no particular order: regrown Jake's eye, rebuilt his left arm (which had been cut to pieces), repaired his Achille's tendon, and dug the bone bits that used to be his ribs. And also regrown his ribs and fixed his various burns. It helps that Jake's perks grant him auto-heal abilities._

"Ash probably needs to rest now." T'nerem says. "He's probably been on healing duty nonstop today."

"Quite." Orden says. "Marcus, tell your men to scale down their attacks while the healers rest."

"Aye." Marcus agrees. "No point waking them from their needed sleep."

Quite nice of them, to be honest.

 _Jake sets up a bedroll with the nicest fur he could find and we immediately fall asleep._

…

[Some hours later]

…

 _BOOM_

I'M AWAKE! I'M AWAKE!

…It looks like nothing's changed.

…Well, no, the T-sisters and Mell are asleep. My girls are busy doing chores (like bringing water and food to people), but otherwise nothing's changed.

 _We get up._

"You're up." Marcus notes with a yawn. "It's near noon." He says, pointing to an hourglass and a bunch of black lines drawn on the stone next to him. Or else they're smears, it's hard to tell by torch.

"How goes the fight?" I ask and shoot some hot water onto my face.

Marcus huffs. "We've managed to secure the top passage, but other than that, no progress." He gestures to Mell. "She's also out of good potions, too."

Make sense. Good potions, by the way, are the three main ones (health/mana/stamina), because they're the ones that are most immediately useful. Don't know if I mentioned this, but all potions are 'recover over time' types, rather than 'recover X immediately' types.

…Well, I'm freshly rested. I've gained a total of…78 points? Nice.

This also gives me a new major perk called '500', which I assume means that I get something for going past 500 of something. Probably perk points. It just gives me a +1 to luck, which…well, I haven't seen anything else that gives luck, so this is pretty substantial.

Anyways, I've dumped some points into some random perks, but most importantly I picked 30 points of scrollcraft (make scrolls better) and scrollcharge (charge scrolls faster). A little miffed I have to take something based on current conditions, but that's how things go.

 _For the record, Jake got 135 points in his life and death struggle._

I have a lot of major perks unallocated, so I take three points of scrollmaker (Great/er/est) because why not, and, uh, 'High Magic Writer, Reader, and Interpreter'.

Judging by their description, I have basically wrestled twenty people from the claws of death to achieve what is basically the ability to read and write.

HM Writer gives me "Better results when making tomes", Reader gives me the same when 'reading tomes' and Interpreter makes me better when 'working with spells'.

I assume this means I'm going to be the world's most dangerous librarian, and I approve.

Anyways, the scrolls.

After a good night's sleep, the scrolls have changed colors from a dull maroon color to a light red. I assume this means they're charged. Sadly, the scrollmaking perks don't help when I don't have knowledge, so all I can do is stare at the circles and have this vague feeling of incompletion.

I also don't have any knowledge of what is needed to modify a scroll, but I assume it's the same material needed for enchantments.

 _We ask around._

"No, just regular ink will do." One of the battlemages replies and hands me a bottle. "However, scrollmaking is not the art of novices, so to do so without practice is unlikely."

 _We then proceed to demolish one of the three scrolls by idly scribbling on it._

I think he's right. Does Skyrim recycle?

 _The red ink on the scroll turns black after we break it, so instead of it being a scroll of fireball it is now just a ruined doodle._

The way I see it, a scroll has three parts: the spell, the condenser, and the storage. I'm naming them based on their use and I have no research to back up these claims.

The spell does what the scroll says it does. Scroll of Fireball has a Fireball inscribed into it.

The condenser helps draw power from the ambient surroundings, probably.

The storage helps regulate the power and keep it stored to be unleashed, probably.

This structure makes the most sense to me, so we're going to pretend that this is the case until proven otherwise. Regardless, since I don't know what part of the circle does what, I'm just going to use them as-is without modifications. If I want more, I can just copy it, so that's nice.

…Do I need special paper for this?

Jake wakes up and allocates his points.

He maxes out Counter Master, takes a bunch of other minor perks, and then takes a bunch of major perks, then gets some Mountain-esque finishing effects.

He takes: Counter Master (Great/er/est), Evasion Master (Great/er/est), Melee Foresight, and Ranged Foresight. The two masters do exactly what they say on the tin (make Counter/Evade better), and the two foresights boost his hit/evade while fighting those two types of attacks.

The finishing effects are: Aspect of Wind, Earth, Fire, and Water. He is pretty much the last Everything Bender. The four aspects do similar things, so all of them combined means that Jake now takes half damage from all attacks and deal an extra quarter more (technically 40% and 20%, but eh).

 _Wind reduces damage taken by 20%, earth does the same for physical damage, water for magic, and fire makes him hit harder for 20%._

He also gets Counter Master for hitting 100 with Counter.

Like…I think Jake's gotten to the point where if I kit him correctly he will literally take no damage from just about everything.

…

[About an hour Later]

…

So that's not true. Sad, but I think I can get around it.

Jake comes back with a bit of a limp (arrow to the shin) and we patch him up right and proper. Now that the healers are all awake, the tempo of the battle has been raised a bit.

Jake's perks are, I think, pound for pound better than mine, but because they require that he be in the heat of battle, they're also therefore way more situationally activated. As in, his evasion/counter bonuses only work if he's aware of being attacked. If he gets ambushed (like just now with the arrow) then things go sour.

So…yeah. I should give Jake something that gives him innate detection or something. Really abuse his bullshit perks to their limit.

Either way, Jake's back on his feet in no time and gets back out there.

"Ash, can you help out at the front?" T'Ma asks me. Lady do you not understand how much damage I take from magic…

…Though I'm curious. "Why?"

"The Stormcloaks are focusing down our battlemages, and we could use someone who's got power to help even the odds."

I take a moment to parse this statement, because it sounds awfully like "hey if you go out there everyone and their mother will want to shoot at you specifically with those fireballs which you have an 15x weakness to."

…On the flip side, I kind of really want to get out there. I like my healing, and I love my kids, but I want some action.

 _Remind me why you have kids?_

I am a terrible role model. "Let me get prepared." I get my two fireball scrolls and my 2x fireball scroll.

 _Which is…_

Since I can use more than one scroll per spell, I copied one of the Fireball scrolls onto a large piece of linen (I got some of the linen lying around, transmuted it together, and cleaned it). I have no idea what this will do. I suspect that if I didn't have the perks for making scrolls it would not have gone as well as it did.

I also have had absolutely no practice with this scroll and have zero guarantees that it would perform its designed function. The only safety check I'm implementing is that I am giving this thing to the toughest person we know (Jake) with warning that it may or may not explode violently against him.

My gravestone will say "He had it coming" and it would be entirely justified.

 _We follow T'Ma to the front line, where Jake stands tapping his feet._

"Yo." He greets me as I get here. Apart from Jake, there's around twenty other Imperial soldiers and ten Eagle soldiers. There are also periodic fireballs being shot down the low corridor.

So, in game, this is the part where the player can stop following the NPCs to do a little bit of exploring. What's-her-face basically tells the group to stop because there's a high possibility of an ambush, and then you the player gets to take the second entrance and surprise the defenders.

Here…the defenders are very aware that we're here, and have basically barricaded the second story entrance with all the debris that they can find. If we attempt to clear the second story entrance, there's a very high chance that the Stormcloaks on the other side will just fireball the people trying to clear said entrance. Going down the lower lane just gets us fireballed, too.

Either way, not a pleasant environment. "I have a present for you." I had over the 2x Fireball to Jake. "It's theoretically a very big kaboom."

Jake gingerly takes the two pieces of paper with his thumb and forefinger. "This isn't gonna be like that teapot, is it?"

Oh he remembered that? "It's _exactly_ like that teapot." I grin. "Down to the whole 'never tested this before' business."

"Fuck me." Jake sighs. "Alright, better me than you." He takes the two scrolls and focuses. Instantly, a small ball of fire grows on his free hand. I can see from here that the two scrolls have turned maroon in color.

 _We have retreated into a corner and put up around ten layers of Wards. The T-sisters are the only ones to take the hint, and retreat accordingly._

Jake lines himself up with the hallway, squints, then quickly throws the ball and dives out of the way. The reason for his dive is because a fireball was shot in his direction and not at all because he rightfully doubts my first-time-craft capabilities. Nope. Not at all.

 _The 2x Fireball whistles through the corridor._

Moment of silence.

 _The room trembles._

…Fuck?

"Aiight." Jake, already on his feet, sprints through the hallway.

His footsteps resound through the hallway, ending with a loud and very vicious "Hello motherfuckers!" somewhere on the other side of the hallway. The T-Sisters, hearing the shout, sprint after him, followed by the rest of the on-site Eagles, then the rest of the on-site Imperials.

Then me, because why risk it?

…

After I cross the threshold, I find out that, to no surprise, the defending Stormcloaks are wiped out to a man. Or not, judging by the fact that the gate deeper in is wide open.

"Alright, we got past this part." Jake breathes out, looking at the gate. "I saw a lot of them pack up and leave, so I think I may have gotten maybe a quarter of them." There's around seven Stormcloaks dead at his feet, so…around thirty men?

…Thirty men stopped two companies? Seriously?

"Spells make tight quarters a bitch." An Imperial soldier grumbles. "Messenger, go tell the captain that we've captured the door." An Imperial Messenger salutes and does as he's told.

This side of the room is more or less straightforward. The passage that we've (well, the Imperials) just spent days trying to pass extends to the far wall, and a broken wooden staircase would have let us go from this lower level to the upper one. Judging by the fact that there are cut nets on the floor, I assume the Stormcloaks used nets to get from the bottom level to the upper one. The overall distance between the two is about a person-and-a-half, so somebody could certainly get to the upper level if given a boost.

Hrm.

"That scroll did the trick." Jake says. "When I rushed through, every Stormcloak was dazed and out of it." He frowns. "There wasn't a whole lot of fire, though."

Noted, though I'm just glad it worked at all.

…

As the main camp moves up, us front guard reestablish a way past the man-and-a-half elevation change via reusing the Stormcloak's cut nets. Afterwards, since nobody in the Eagles wanted to separate from Jake, we sit around and wait while the Imperial elements continue past the metal gate.

"So…think we woke 'em up?" I ask Jake on the sly, covered by the din of the incoming camp.

"Probably." Jake agrees. "At least they don't shoot fuckin' fireballs."

The second half of this scenario is basically a rush against Draugr. Though…if I'm remembering right, isn't there a second exit?

"Aye, there is." Orden says when he gets here. "But the gates are made of iron. We don't have experienced thieves in this company." He glances at Marcus.

"We don't either." Marcus shrugs. "Most rogues I know are good at sneaking around, less so at picking pockets or opening unusual locks."

…I feel like all of this would've been solved by a good ol' lever.

"We've tried to prop the gate open with a lever, too, but it's too heavy." Orden adds as an afterthought. Well fuck you too, for being foresighted.

Anyways, the camp finishes its move at around the same time that the earlier detachment comes back.

Verdict? Draugur. It seems that, indeed, the Imperial army was not aware that Nord Zombies were a thing. The soldiers sound a bit shaken.

According to them, they saw dozens of Draugur wandering around the next chamber and what looked like dead Stormcloaks lying around the floor. If memory serves, the next big room is basically a trap where Draugur spawn all around the room. If that's the case, then it makes sense that a comparatively bigger room with no attention to balance would spawn a bajillion zombies and overwhelm through sheer numbers.

Be nice if the Stormcloaks fired their Fireballs as a last-ditch thing, but whatevs.

 _Our combined group prepares to dive deeper into the dungeon._

The plan is pretty simple: people who can shoot magelights shoot magelights, and the people who can murder Draugur murder Draugur.

 _Both groups move deeper and carry out the plan._

With Jake taking point, the Vanguard (all blokes with Greatswords) dive straight into the room of Draugur. I'd say that…there's about sixty Draugur in the room.

 _Jake swings his sword._

Fifty-five.

They're pretty dispersed (kind of) through the rather large hall, but since there doesn't seem to be any reinforcements popping up from

 _One Draugur rises from the grave. We shoot it dead with fire._

Doesn't seem to be any reinforcements popping up from the other caskets except for _that_ lil' shit.

…The rest of the battle doesn't take too long. Dragur are most dangerous with surprise and numbers, and this is one of those times where they have neither. Soon enough, we're now faced with the greatest enemy of any dungeon-crawling party: doors. It's at least a metal one so we have an excuse.

"Alright." Orden says after reviewing said door. "There must be a switch here."

We all fan out to find the switch. Given that there's like sixty of us and us mages can pop magelight forever, we find the switch (a push-down kind) in no time at all.

Moving on!

…

…

The rest of the dungeon is a slow slog through mountains of Draugur.

"I think your scroll woke all of 'em up." Jake comments as he kills, like, his 200th one.

"Yeah, well, it got us past the hard part." I defend myself, though I do agree.

"At least this is more straightforward than the Stormcloaks." T'Ma notes, out of breath. "Got any water?" Big sister hands her a flask. "Thanks."

The T-Sisters are basically on rotation with Jake and Eric. The six of them take shifts of four people at a time and are basically responsible for guarding the party's right flank, where we happen to be.

The 'back line', as it were, is made of me, Mell, my girls, and Aria.

Aria's our permanent defense.

"I don't see why I can't just defend you by killing everything." Aria had said with a cute little pout. Our reasoning is that we need someone skilled on backup in case Jake gets swamped, and having two tired elites at the same time would help nobody.

 _We continue to progress slowly deeper into the chamber, including a merciful hallway where no Draugur bothered us._

That was a nice little five minutes for us to all catch our breath. Too bad it's past now.

…I am coming to the sudden realization that we _may_ have just crossed the dragonclaw door without realizing it. Why's it open again? Who did it this time?

…

 _Our combined company makes way into the deepest part with some casualties. During the battle we slowly made our way to the center while other 101 or Imperial units took our place on the right flank._

No fatalities, though, which is good. T'Mare took a rather nasty cut to her arm, which means Aria's now on offense while she rests for defense.

I'd say we're at…60%? Of our initial combat power.

The biggest issue of this dungeon is, quite literally, the fact that the Draugur are coming up almost as quickly as they're going down. Basically, the corpse needs to be entirely de-limbed or else reduced entirely to ashes. As a result, the fighting has been…thorough, to say the least.

It's a bit scary when a downed Draugur suddenly takes a swipe at your leg, not gonna lie. Why are they so persistent in this dungeon? Is it because the crown is important?

…Would owning that crown result in more Draugur showing up? Or would it result in the Draugur attacking the owner? Hmm.

…Either way, we're now at the very end. Both units are exhausted, and we have no room to retreat. The reason why we can't retreat is because…well, we can't burn down 100% of the Draugur that we've met and apparently a Draugur without its entire lower body is still dangerous if it has, like, arms or its mouth. A head by itself can still bite and SHOOT FUCKING ICE.

…Not a lot of ice, and definitely ain't enough to do damage, but it's annoying. Plus, a long slog like this is extremely bad for equipment maintenance, and that, plus the fact that we're basically doing breakthrough attacks (leaving live targets behind us) means we can't really go back easily. Nobody wants to go back emptyhanded like this, either.

ANY ways, we're now in the deepest layers of the…Barrow? Catacombs? I've already forgotten the name of the place. The torches that we have illuminate this room as a big, empty motherfucker. The floor is exceptionally smooth at parts…as in, there's a raised surface that's incredibly smooth. Said raised surface is also rather large, too.

"Fan out." Orden says. "This place is huge. Don't group up unnecessarily."

I guess he's worried about an ambush. Don't blame him. Our two groups spread out into little gaggles of units with our own torches. I'm getting goosebumps, and it's cold down here.

"Ash, can you light up the entire area?" Jake asks. "If we're gonna be ambushed then I'd rather see what we're dealing with." He says with enough volume for everyone to hear.

I crack my knuckles. "Shouldn't be too difficult." Pew! Pew! Pew!

 _A flurry of lights emits from our hands and hang in the air._

…Oh wow, I figured I wouldn't hit the ceiling with them, but they only went halfway…ish? This chamber is about eighty feet high, then.

…Given the size, wouldn't it collapse? There's no pillar in the middle or anything…

Mm…

 _The party proceed through the room and arrives at a stone throne sitting in the middle of the smooth floor._

The throne…is empty. Save for a rather…strangely gleaming crown sitting on the chair, it is empty.

 _Jake goes "If this isn't a fucking ambush I will eat my hat." To which T'Ma slyly replies "you don't wear a hat."_

Orden has the same sense we do. "Stay alert, it cannot possibly be this easy." He warns us. "Form a defensive line, do not approach the throne. Scouts of both Imperial and Whiterun parties, find us any possible exits."

We do, and keep a wide berth around the worryingly empty throne in the process. After five minutes or so, one of the Imperial scouts report that "there's a passage back here!" from somewhere on the other side of this room. "I think it leads to a staircase!" He gets a battlemage to put up some magelights by the door so we know where it is.

Woo! Way out!

"Alright." Marcus says with some cheer. "Now let's take this thing and go home."

"Aye." Orden nods. "Will you do the honors, captain Marcus? Though my reports will say otherwise, I think we all know who's responsible for this victory today."

"If you're being this generous." Marcus grins, walks up to the throne, checks it for traps (probably, given how he's looking over it), and then plucks the crown.

Aaaaand the shit hits the fan. All around us, we suddenly start to hear whispers. Everyone in attendance immediately take defensive formations ('cuz we're all terrified) and we start inching to the exit.

All around us, signs of blue…ethereal blue…oh fuck it's ghosts.

 _Around the entire room, ghost warriors begin phasing through the walls. They're packed dense, to the point where their ghostly coloring makes it impossible to see the wall behind them._

That's a lot. That is, a lot. The girls are terrified and are clutching my legs and I should trim their nails.

…Also, Mell. I guess she doesn't like ghosts. Right, she really doesn't like ghosts.

 _Mell's got our arm clutched tight into her chest._

She's got a hell of a grip because I'm trying to free my arm and it's not working. I need both my arms to cast, lady.

…The ghost soldiers have formed a veritable solid wall between us and freedom, and all of them…it's hard to tell, but it feels like all of them have their eyes fixed squarely on the crown.

"Do you think they'll go away if I put it down?" Marcus says with a nervous laugh, and gently set the crown down onto the throne.

It doesn't work, the soldiers are still there, and the whispers are still there, though it sounds like the noise is starting to build. I kind of wish that all these ghosts would talk eerily at the same time so I can make out what's being said.

 _After some seconds of close listening…_

"Usurper" is the world of the day, I think. I'm not liking the direction of this development.

 _Every one of the ghost soldiers chant 'usurper' over and over again, while drawing their spectral weapons._

"Can we break through?" Orden asks as he eyes the exit. The exit that's currently behind a literal wall of blue.

"Not easily." His Lieutenant says. "But it should be doable."

…Y'know, I'm now uncomfortable with how much I'm not looking at the ceiling. In literally every standoff situation like this something always drops down from the ceiling.

I am now very scared to look at the ceiling because

 _We look at the ceiling. There is a pair of glowing blue eyes looking down at us._

Oh god dammit

 _Fus!_

Of course some shit like this hapPENS

 _The eyes suddenly descend, and the Draugur Overlord descends with its greataxe. It lands with such speed that nobody (apart from its target) even registers._

MOTHER FUCKER

 _The Draugur Overlord drops like an anvil on top of Aria, who parry/evades the attack and gets her sword broken in the process._

Wow that thing is

 _Roh Dah!_

FAACK

 _The Overlord fires his unrelenting shout in our direction. Fortunately, it's not our first rodeo, so as soon as we see him look our way we crouch (bringing the girls down with us) and throw up layers of wards. We also accidentally bonk Mell into the ground._

The blast blows the wards clean out of the water, but the low stance helped make sure nobody got airborne. Also as soon as his blast ended Aria stuck her bent sword in him.

The biggest issue with these long dungeon crawls is the fact that our equipment just doesn't last. Draugur by themselves are chewy, but their armor (old as it may be) still hurt blades. Add that to the fact that we had to stick together with no real chance to retreat, and we end up with this situation where basically everyone is either on their last weapon or else needed to salvage from the Draugur. Our guys are no exception either.

Also I should really be more focused on what's going on in front of me instead of being distracted by fear.

Aria is fighting the Overlord with a looted Dragur longsword, and they're dancing dangerously close to where I am. The rest of the two companies have formed a defensive circle against the ghosts, who are all calling things like "usurper!" or "treason!" and the such. Fortunately Skyrim ghosts are not Cyrodill ghosts and can be harmed by non-silver weapons like normal.

…Unfortunately it doesn't look like they're dying.

 _We watch as Jake cleaves through five ghosts with one swing. The blue energy of the ghosts rise up to the ceiling and stay there like a cloud._

Getting' some _real_ Raid Boss vibes out of that ghost energy.

Initially, I think either Orden or Marcus wanted us to make a fighting retreat, but since they're basically cutting down the ghosts like wheat they've decided against it.

 _Pang!_

Jake's greatsword snaps right through the middle. Fortunately he's using a looted Draugur one.

…

…

 _We basically watch the fight from the center of the ring and help out every now and then with blasts of magic as everyone else do all the heavy lifting._

It take a little while, but Aria gets the advantage against the Draugur Overlord and then basically never lets up. She's constantly weaving in and out against it, slashing wherever she can reach, and then blasting it with magic whenever her offhand is free.

 _She doublehands when going in for an attack, and when she's recovering she takes whichever is her offhand and shoots some fire at it._

She also, whenever she gets the chance, switches between the looted Draugur sword and a normal Steel sword, which she's been keeping as a reserve to maintain its edge. The Overlord tries to shout a few times, but she's so fast and so good at judging distances that every time it opens its mouth it gets skewered in said mouth. You'd think that once would be enough, but eh.

A few rounds of dominating action against the Overlord later, she stabs it through the skull (and helmet) with her bad sword, slice off its head with her good one, then torch the body with a blast of fire.

Afterwards, she joins the main line and help out against the ghosts. She's awesome like that.

 _And we are…_

Healing. The establishment of a front line means that wounded units can now cycle to the center of the camp, where us healer types help patch them up. For some reason, healing doesn't seem to work as well when they're struck by ghost weapons, I don't know why.

Mell, I should note, has gone so far off the edge of terror that she's stopped caring about the ghosts, and can do her job of being a chemist without problems.

…

Eventually, the ghosts stop coming.

"God awful fight." Marcus summarizes.

As far as I could tell it was impossible to parry or block a ghost weapon, so…yeah, I agree. They went down easy, though.

"Good thing numbers were all they had." Jake says and looks up at the thundercloud of ghost…things, hovering above us. "So should we get out of here or wait to see what that's going to turn into?" He says in a faux-light voice.

"Jake's right." Orden nods. "Let's move." He takes the crown (he's the closest) and we all beeline for the exit.

The exit, as it turns out, is a gentle slope, up to…what would otherwise be a spiral wooden staircase, except the staircase has completely rotted away, leaving just a…stone tube? What's this place called when the staircase isn't here anymore?

"Fuck." Marcus says as we lamely stare at the exit door like five stories above our head. "Now what?"

Orden shrugs. "Unless anyone's got some rope, we're taking the long way back."

…We're a band of a hundred-some people and literally NOBODY has the requisite fifty feet of rope? What is this sacrilege?

 _You have no rope either._

I know, shush. We also have nothing to tie the proverbial rope onto (nor a grappling hook), so that's also a thing.

…though…

 _We stand and stare at the stone wall for a moment. The concentration on our face is enough to cause Marcus to wave to the rest of the 101 and get them to be silent. Orden, catching his drift, does the same for his men._

…I can probably do something about this. "Mell, pot me."

"I don't have any more." Mell says. "You drank them all."

…I did, didn't I? "Oh yeah." I put my hand on the wall. I should have enough juice recovered for a test run at least.

 _We focus and channel some transmutation. There's a slight rumble, and an outcropping of rock begins to grow at roughly our knee height. It keeps growing until we run out of mana._

The end result is a piece of stone about a foot long. Let's see here…

 _We stand on it._

Seems to be able to hold my weight, though I'm pretty sure I'm the lightest person here except maybe Mell and my kids. Let's see…

 _We look for the biggest looking person in attendance._

Dude seems to be a part of the vanguard. "Hey, you, big guy with the greataxe. Come over here and stand on this thing." Imperial Vanguard.

He looks to Orden, who gives him the head jerk of affirmation™, and he does as he's told. A few little hops later and the stair seems to hold firm just fine.

Yay. "Ok, now give me…however long this is going to take."

 _Over the course of the next thirty minutes, we create a series of stairs up to the exit._

It's not a very comfortable climb; each step of the stair is about a foot and a half away from the next. I had to make sure I had enough mana to make a way out _and_ for the…whatever the fuck, is going on back in the throne room. Nothing happened (as far as our scouts could tell) so that's good. Sucks for whoever comes down here later, but eh.

Either way, with the staircase created, the troops were able to slowly make their way up to the door and exit the spiral not-staircase. The girls in particular needed some help to get up properly due to their shorter legs.

Past the spiral notcase is a…uncomfortably steep climb upwards that ends in another set of hefty metal doors. I make the climb easier by sinking bits of earth to make a staircase. Climbing up is pretty easy while climbing down is gonna be a death sentence. I like it. Kinda.

Ultimately, the gates outwards need five or six people to shove open, and finally… _finally…_ we're outside again.

So…final tally.

The Imperial Force sent two companies to this place and about…eighty? Still live.

The 101 had a hundred people, and we're down to, uh…seventy-ish? Hard to do a headcount right now.

Silver lining: a vast majority of fatalities in the Imperial forces happened before we arrived, so at least I can feel like I did the best I could.

"At least we've gotten the reward." The Imperial Captain sighs as she nestles the crown into a strongbox. "Break camp! We're leaving!"

…

It's basically midnight by the time we escape, but nobody wants to be here any longer, so pack up was fast and efficient (reasonably) and around an hour later we all fuck off back towards Whiterun.

I'm really tired.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Orden trails the Warwolf's wagon with his immediate Lieutenants in tow. He watches as Ash lays out cloth and material on the wagon, bed down with his girls, and fall asleep.

"What an exceptional group." Lieutenant A commends. "The two of them easily accounted for half of our men." She mimes swooning. "Truly, an exception."

"The reputation of the Mountain was, if anything else, understated." Lieutenant B nods. "I had heard of a warrior from Whiterun with unparalleled power, but the real thing puts those rumors to shame."

"And that Aria girl." Lieutenant C chips in. "How is it possible that we've never heard of her?"

"And that healer." Lieutenant D adds. "Is he actually a healer?" He vividly remembers watching the man take an ax to the back while concentrated on healing and not even flinch.

 _Ash had taken something like 37 hits during the entirety of the dungeon crawl while concentrated on lifesaving and did not notice a single one of them. It was actually why Jake had Warwolf move closer to the center by the time they hit the boss stage._

"I heard from their captain that the man is a blacksmith by trade." Lieutenant A says.

"A learned man with a skilled trade?" Lieutenant B nearly laughs if he wasn't trying to be quiet. "Is he disowned or something?"

"Regardless." Orden cuts across them. "Make it known to the troops that not a single one of them is to talk about that healer."

Three of the four lieutenants understood the reason and nods readily. The fourth one (Lt. C) goes "why?"

"If it becomes known that a healer of that caliber is within Imperial ranks, then it's guaranteed that the Dominion will be involved." Orden explains. "I don't plan to make it any easier for them to steal talent from us any more than the fucking Concordat has already done."

"Understood." Lieutenant C salutes.

…

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

…

Ugh. Worst sleep I've ever gotten. Dreamt of nothing but undead and sadness.

Well, I'm awake and it seems to be something like noon now, so…time to get up.

 _So we do._

"Oh, you're up." Aria says and then not-so-subtly glances at the pile of fubar swords and armor bits that we have. "So…"

"That's gonna have to wait for camp, I think." I look around. The two companies are in recovering spirits, so that's good. We're still travelling together and are likely to split by the time we return to Whiterun. Though…I feel like we can probably stand to go a little faster.

Let's see…me and Mell are the only ones sitting in the cart. Aria's driving, Jake's trying to teach a gaggle of Imperial and 101 dudes on how to be Awesome while…one…two…seven girls listen in.

I'm hammering this "he's got a harem" joke to the ground, really. Of the seven girls, only one of them (the Healer Apprentice) is there specifically for Jake. The rest probably want to get together with him too, but improving their combat ability is primarily why they're there.

Anyways.

…

…

The trip back to Whiterun took comparatively less time owing to fairer weather (5 days total), during which I did my duty of making sure everybody's weapons are of a usable grade. Everybody except the special ones that I made, which is…uh, just Jake's greatsword, actually, the rest are all high quality normal weapons.

The greatsword, by virtue of being a special build, is unrecoverable.

…Or, it could have been a special build. I don't quite remember. The point is, I tried to heat it up to beat it back straight during camp one night and it rather crisply broke in two. So…is that good or bad? I'm not sure.

Either way, I need to remake his sword.

…After spending the perk points I got from that dungeon crawl.

…After taking like a million naps because god dammit five days isn't enough.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

If I had a brain I would have broken this up into multiple chapters.

 _But then you'd have to make the fight longer._

Pah, sidequests.


	15. The After Crown, Pre-Plot Experience

{ === + === }

We're back in Whiterun yaaaay

First order of business!

Going home and taking _so many naps like holy shit_

Second order of business: spending more points to be awesome.

…First-and-a-half order of business, housekeeping.

The Imperial Company (what's left of it) is being stationed at Whiterun while its Commander (and some close bodyguards) run off to Solitude to deliver the crown. They're stationed in the Military district and are received with…mixed results.

I go back to my forge and…well, second order of business time!

 _This is obviously not happening over the period of one night._

I scored 139 points for the second half of the journey, and Jake scored 212.

I'm making a bet that I will not have any surprises in the near future and pump all of my remaining points. 100 into metalworking (better results with metals), 40 into armorcrafting, 40 into weaponcrafting, and the remaining 9 into tailoring, because I want to make some prettier dresses for the girls.

I also take three major ranks of metallurgist (great/er/est) which gives me better results when working with metals and stuff, and two ranks of materialist (lesser/greater) which makes me better at working with nonmetals and stuff.

Ok. Let's get down to business, shall we?

…

There's one major project I want to make for Jake, but that will have to wait until I learn more about how to bend physics over my knee. For now, we'll just have to make do with what we know.

…It should be noted that the trip to Korva-thingy was not very lucrative, and technically we lost money given the equipment damages incurred. Fortunately my recovery rate is high, so it's not all bad.

Anyways, as we get settled back into daily life I get into forging a new sword for Jake. Jake's old greatsword was, to the best of my memory, just a normal forge (if a high quality one). Now that he's Bullshit Awesome™ we can afford to be a little more…out there, with our design.

Of course, I do confer with Jake for this, to see exactly what he's looking for in a weapon.

"Well, I don't want to over-rely on a single weapon, so…"

So…IT'S A GUNDAAAAM!

 _Um._

Ahem. In a nutshell, I'll be reworking Jake's weapon loadout along with a new set of armor. The goal here isn't to build a system of equipment that's integrated because the maintenance for that will be literally impossible. Instead, I'm going to build him a system that basically lets him snap fit new weapons as he needs.

 _In other words, belts?_

…Yeah, I guess. It sounds so much less awesome when it's just belts, y'know?

Anyways, Jake's figure is that: He gets a greatsword for dealing damage, a buckler for anti-missile, and a sidearm (like a one-handed sword) for defense.

My figure is that: he gets a greatsword for dealing damage, a sidearm for defense, bracers for anti-missile, bracelets for wards/skin spells, an under-the-arm folding blade for dealing damage and defense, and a kickass cape because it's a kickass cape. Also blades for the shinguards if necessary, though I think that's probably more an Aria thing than a Jake thing.

And a helmet. Can't forget the helmet.

After this discussion, I get co-opted by Aria, Erik, and the T-sisters to make gear for them too, since Korva swallowed a lot of stuff. I'm a little strapped for spare materials at the moment, and without knowing what's going to happen in the next few days, I elect to prioritize Jake's gear, then Aria, then the rest.

…

[Normal Life Returns]

…

Kinda, sorta. I reopen the forge and get back to work because I need to recoup the losses from Korva and buy new mats to make new stuff, so I need to have shit to sell.

 _We do have ten fireball scrolls valued at roughly a thousand gold apiece._

And they're wonderful, but I would need a buyer.

…

[Day 1]

…

New dresses for the girls! They deserve something a little better now that they've…uh, had one dungeon crawl behind them. Both sisters get matching dress designs—an outer layer of cotton with an inner layer of spidersteel (the material of my armor). Just in case if someone, I dunno, decides to shiv them on their next dungeon crawl.

 _Planning for the next one already?_

Hey, they're kids in Skyrim, they need to be ready.

Orden came to visit (Jake), and they've agreed to a training program where members of his group would come to Warwolf for training in exchange for some much needed coin.

The project to revamp Jake's gear gets laid out, and I begin building the pieces.

…

[Day 2]

…

Orden came by again.

I'm also re-continuing my examination into enchanting. Less "I have found something new" and more "I finally have my lab again."

…

[Day 3]

…

Orden came by again. I don't think he's here to visit Jake this time.

I caught Big Sister looking over my enchantment notes with T'nerem. After listening in for twenty seconds I discovered that Ten was helping Big Sister learn how to read. Given that Big Sister (and Little Sister) are speaking to me now, I think it would be extremely helpful if they can read and write.

Plans for that are now underway.

Incidentally, I have discovered that it is impossible to know the names of Big Sister and Little Sister…because, as far as they claim, they don't have one. I don't know enough about stress trauma to claim if they're lying or not, but…if they say they don't have identities, then I'm not going to press the issue very hard.

…Which means I need to think of names for the two. Hrm.

…

[Day 4]

…

Orden came by again. I think he's here for someone else besides Jake. Don't know who yet.

I've also heard word of an enchanter setting up shop in the Clover (from Aria). Apparently the dude's a recent journeyman from Farengar's…um.

Farengar's…

…his…

…I don't remember the proper term for it, so I'm just going to call them his Interns. They're not his apprentices because, as far as Aria describes it, It's not that "kind of relationship." I don't know what that implicates so I'm just going to take her word for it.

 _Essentially, normal apprentices are taught by the master until they become Journeymen and then practice their trade on their own. Farengar, like other court mages, run what is closer to a boarding school, where after some time of learning the student is just sent out to fend for themselves. This is rather similar to the Winterhold college, just on a smaller (and more trusted) scale._

There's some formal word for it but I don't remember, therefore they're his Interns because as far as Aria described it he uses them like Interns.

Anyways, one such Intern is apparently quite skilled at enchanting and has set up shop in the clover (yay low property costs). It would be in my best interest to pay him a visit because my shit definitely isn't working.

…

[Day 5]

…

I think Orden's here for T'Ma. The maid said that her room had a…smell to it.

I made and finished some basic learning books for the girls—it helps that Skyrim basically uses English and has a surprisingly uniform variant of it across every town and city. I don't know if they use any phonetic alphabets, though I don't know mine all that well so we'll see what happens.

 _We don't know this (now), but this is also when families from the Clover begin trying to send their kids to the new Enchanter, as he is almost literally the only one within the entire district who has more than a working education. The Enchanter is, of course, accepting no applicants._

…

[Day 6]

…

Preeeeetty sure Orden's here for T'Ma now. She requested new, "more attractive", underwear. I would be inclined to make them heavily 18+ if the idea didn't feel rather insulting.

…

[Day 7]

…

 _Orden has come to visit again and they left their window open a sliver._

My god dude just go to an inn or something CHRIST. Also he's not the only visitor (outside of patrons). Farengar is also here for some reason.

"Ah, hello there." Farengar says to me as I'm at my forge. It is midday.

"Yo, Farengar." I reply back as I finish putting the edge on an Imperial Sword. The soldier who owns it is here to ogle at Mell, who is…basically selling him all the potions she made for practice but doesn't need. "What's up?" She's getting really good at capitalizing on her fanservice powers.

"I'm here to visit my newest graduate." He takes a lean against a beam. "How goes your research?"

He actually cares for his students? "Same as usual." I am…tentatively making progress. "Got any more hints for me?"

"Hardly." Farengar smirks. "I only teach my students."

Prick. Very reasonable, but prick nonetheless.

We share a little more pleasantries—he buys a small trinket for like 15 gold—and then gets on his way.

…Hmm. Since I don't seem to have a lot of work this morning, I should go see what a 'real' enchanter can do.

 _So we do._

The dude's shop (the "Growing Light") is a refurbished house near the richer region. He lives in his workshop, to nobody's surprise. It's…Breezehome-y? In shape, though the front door seems to be wider than usual.

 _The inside is partitioned into: a waiting room near the door, the main chamber (with enchanting table), side room for storage, and a second floor bedroom. The front door of the house had collapsed some time before the Dude got there, and he had it repaired into more of a storefront with a larger reception._

Looks like his enchanting table is clear for all to see. So he's putting a show of it? In front of his shop is a small gaggle of people, some of which are with their children (under ten, mostly). Others could also be here with their children (over ten) but height-wise it's a little hard to tell.

Let's see here…

 _The Dude takes payment from a minor noble and receives his ring. He takes a soulstone from his stock and, under the watchful eye of Farengar, places both items on the enchanting table._

He takes out…some twine? It's hard to tell from here, but it's something that he's wrapping around whatever he's trying to enchant.

 _The Dude finishes wrapping the twine around the ring, then moves on to the enchanting phase. We are currently looking in through a window along with some excited small children._

I can feel the magic flow, and judging by the small nodding motion of Farengar he can detect it too. The—looks like some kinda jewelry, so probably a ring—glows slightly with power, the twine around it also glows with power, and…

…

…and…he's done? Just like that?

What? What? WHAT?

 _It takes us a little time to clear our indignation, in which time the man enchants three more items before claiming (truthfully) that he had run out of magicka for the time being._

BULLSHIT! THAT IS BULLSHIT! I CALL BULLSHIT! GAAAAAAAAAHHH!

 _It takes us some time to get calmed down._

Ok, so.

First off, thanks to the noble bloke for showing off his ring of defense and letting me try it on to verify that it actually worked.

That said.

The Fucking BULLSHIT is that the ring has an enchant of protection and the twine has a magic container. That's it. That is LITERALLY it.

Do you understand how pissed off I am because I don't understand how pissed off I am.

The method that this guy uses is something I know how to do. I don't do it because either the enchant lifetime is short in exchange for a powerful item, or else the enchant power is minimal in favor of a longer service time.

 _In game terms, the ring gives +2 to armor and will need to be recharged every two weeks. That enchant bonus, incidentally, also decreases over those two weeks as the magic in the item is used up. It cannot be turned off. In case you're wondering how effective that +2 would be, the basic iron armor in this example would have a rating of 100, while a piece of clothing would have a rating of around 3._

Not to disparage the guy's work because that ring would be very helpful if you're not wearing armor, but _god damn_ is that disappointing.

"You look like you're having a good time, Ash." Farengar laughs as he catches my likely very pissed off face.

"Oh, I'm grand." I say in my best 'angry sarcasm' voice. "Don't mind me, just reevaluating my life options."

Ugh. Whatever. I'm going home.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Irileth watches Ash's sulking form vanish around the corner. "You're ok with not having told him about this?" She asks Farengar.

"To what end?" Farengar shrugs. "He's pursuing the hardest possible path an enchanter can take. Either he succeeds or he finds a way to explain away his own insecurities, I care not."

Irileth smirks to herself as Farengar gives some tips to his best student as they take tea. _Tough talk from someone who basically jumped at the chance to go into the Clover. You're secretly rooting for him to succeed, aren't you?_ She palms the little trinket that Farengar had purchased. _Oddly sensible, that man._

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

I am going to enchant right now because I have a serious ego problem and I WILL NOT stand for being upstaged by that…well, that guy. Honestly his method is much better for me since I'm always on-site to resupply an enchanted item, but it's about the principle of the matter.

 _We set up our table and resources._

I am also acutely aware of how much more expensive my enchanting pattern is compared to his.

…? Epiphany moment. Could it be possible that I'm effectively trying to do too much? I mean, I wouldn't use five bars of steel to make a dagger, and even if I did I wouldn't get a very good result.

…Hmm…

 _We prepare a dagger on the table and put in some soulstones._

Also…can I 'knead' the magic the same way I do it to the spidersilk? Given the sheer amount of bullshit I have going to for me, I can (at great cost) spin steel into literal strands. Can I do the same with magic?

…using magic as a spell is effectively 'kneading' it, so…

 _We close our eyes and go deep into the 'magic realm', putting all of our focus into feeling the power flow between us and the atmosphere._

…

Oh. Oh. Ooooh.

Well now I feel stupid.

I have never actually tried to regulate the flow of power into the item. Basically…um…

…the best way I can explain this is that the dagger is quite stupid and cannot regulate its own magick. Think of it like…pouring water into a cup. The cup will overflow if you pour too much water into it, but the cup will never stop you from pouring water into it. It'll never be like "nah man you're overdoing it".

Well, an average ceramic one, anyway.

So…looking back, I don't think I ever noticed how weird it was that, regardless of how much power I start with, it never felt like I was overdoing the magic power.

It's one of those 'man I was dumb' moments, and I am rather happy that I found out so soon. I mean, kinda wish I found out around the 100th dagger, but hey.

Ok…so…how do I actually dictate how much magic power I'm going to use? Hrm. It's obvious that I can put power into a soulstone, which will contain the power, but the amount of power actually contained by a soulstone is pretty small, I mean…

 _We pour power into a soulstone and put a fire enchant on the dagger. It flames vibrantly for about fifteen seconds before the magic drains away._

…Yeah. I want something that Jake can use without worrying about maintenance while also being powerful enough that it would actually, y'know, _do_ something. Kinda feel like I'm being too ambitious here, though.

 _We take the time to 'knead' the magical power much like we work with metal, folding and concentrating it into progressively smaller and smaller strands, before sending it into a petty soulstone._

OW

 _The soulstone shatters almost immediately and sends shards into our hands._

Fuck? Why?

 _Reason: basically, the soulstone can contain like 100 points of power. We just tried to put about 25,000 into it._

I can't do this, then…hrm. I've tried letting the item charge through ambient magick power, but the whole point of an enchanted item is that it has a way higher magic concentration than its ambient surroundings, so…

Super hrm.

I should practice with my magic kneading more before I try this.

…

[A week passes]

…

Orden visited once a day every day. Mell, possibly wising up to why he was here, slyly pushed stamina potions his way. She also pushed 'em to T'Ma, too, so she made like oodles of money this week. I feel like the two of them bought her pots to keep her quiet, but still, oodles.

The other Whiterun Company also returned from its service east, and judging by their stories they were not too successful. They were tasked with basically trying to secure a pass through the mountain range that separates Whiterun from…whatever was north of it, I don't remember.

They succeeded in their task initially, but because the pass is home to ice trolls and because it's getting warmer, the pass requires constant guard to be useful, and those troops would be better elsewhere. Once they left, the ice trolls promptly came back. In a nutshell, they spent time doing nothing.

 _Why is things being warm bad?_

I don't know, that's what their news said. I assume it has something to do with the ice in the path melting but obviously I don't know the details.

They did bring back some interesting news, though: a lot of troops are being tasked to Whiterun and Falkreath, which…I don't _quite_ remember my geography, but I think both holds border Helgen and, by extension, Riften. My best guess is that this is basically an attack declaration, since if they _do_ attack Riften through Helgen, then their supply line would be unnecessarily long and prone to being cut off, making a followup attack more likely.

If doing this was enough to win the war, then the war would be over already.

Still, this means that more troops will be coming, which means more business for me, which…means I get to spend less time enchanting. Fuck.

Speaking of enchanting:

I've developed a habit of trying to 'knead' magic into a small point. It's not a useful battle technique—takes me fifteen minutes to knead it—but it does make me feel like I'm getting better fine control over magic in general, so…y'know, gift horse, mouth, etc etc etc.

 _We've made a habit of doing it whenever we have the spare concentration, so now there's almost always some small mote of power following us around somewhere._

It's a good way to pass the time, or something. I favor magelight since I can actually do useful things with it, like illuminating my current work. While doing this, I also found an…interesting? Aspect of magelight. I don't know if it's magelight that does it or magic in general, so…

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Farengar visits the Clover yet again.

"I've heard of favoritism, but this is a first from you." Irileth had said with a sigh before he left. "Just come home before dark."

As he walks the streets of the so-called poorest sections of the city, he could not help but shake his head at her motherly tone. Soon enough, he comes to Ash's forge.

"Yo." Ash greets him without turning around. "Here to visit your boy again?"

 _How's he doing that?_ Farengar wonders idly. "That I am, Ash. I've brought you a visitor today, too."

Ash turns slightly to see Delphine behind Farengar. "Oh. Ok. Farengar, I've got something I want your advice on."

Farengar nods calmly as fireworks explode inside his head. The entire reason he convinced his journeyman to set up a shop inside the Clover was so that he could detour to Ash's forge with good reason. Over the time where Warwolf was deployed Farengar had ordered a spare key made for Ash's forge so he could go into his study and read Ash's copious notes on enchanting. Now that the shop owner was home, he would need to be a little more careful about abusing his position.

"Let's see it."

Ash concentrates, and a little mote of magelight floats in front of him. Farengar nods in reply.

Ash had discovered what children in magic training are specifically taught. Concentrating the power of a spell into one point was a tried and true method for teaching small children how to better control and mold their power, and was something they stopped doing after the age of ten since it stopped being useful.

Farengar was a bit disappointed, but it was certainly fun for him to see Ash's self-taught progression in magic. He then blinks. If his senses weren't deceiving him, Ash had concentrated what was basically the power of a fireball into a needlepoint, and was now causing it to trail around him in bright, glowing lines.

This? This was new. Most people stop doing this kind of practice because it's tiring without getting anything.

"Impressive, though…" Farengar chooses his words carefully. "…its hardly a new form of magic."

Ash shrugs. "I figured." He turns back to his forge. "Thanks for the input." The mote stays over his head and flits about as if it had a life of its own.

 _If I weren't worried about the Dominion snatching him up I'd recruit him in a second._ Farengar growls in his head. He was fully aware that, apart from himself and Delphine there were still many visitors and soldiers milling about, and one wrong word would cause problems down the road that he could not possibly predict. How infuriating that he would be denied such incredible talent due to something as banal as politics!

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

I watch Farengar trade some pleasantries with my regulars before leaving.

"What was that all about?" Delphine asks me. I suppose this means she's staying around.

"I wanted to see if this concentrated magic thing was usual." I reply. "His reaction says yes."

"Huh." She doesn't seem to care all that much. "I've come to talk to Aria. Is she home?"

…isn't she spending like all of her time at Dragonsreach?

 _For the past week, Aria and Jake were busy training folks and thus were at the Warwolf lodge._

…Well if Delphine's here then I suppose not. More to the point. "I only ever see them at dinnertime so I couldn't tell ya."

"Hm." Delphine looks at my stuff. "You make all this?" She points to a rack of short swords and I nod. "Nice." She picks one up and gives it a swing. "Think you can make some knives?"

? "Why?"

"Well…" Delphine looks around to make sure we're not overheard (we totally are). "Let's say that my pet project could use some." Ever since Orden and Farengar began making their near-daily trips here my onlooker clientele has increased.

Still, her pet project, huh? That's probably the infiltration mission…which she's probably going to talk to Aria about. "Well…I'll see what I can do."

If she's requesting knives, then that means she's requesting for stealth kill weapons. If she's looking for stealth kill weapons…

…well.

…

[That Night]

…

Aria comes back at dusk and meets with Delphine, who hung around the shop for the entire day. I even had to make her lunch because Big Sister asked me about if she's staying over and _goddammit_ I can't say no to her.

I also got Delphine to teach the girls a little about swordplay, which is, I feel, fair.

Anyways, as she and Aria (and Jake) go off to the Warwolf lodge to discuss the plan™, I'm planning my knife. It will be a good knife. The best knife. It will revolutionize the art of shivving someone when they're not paying attention.

…It might also make a lot of unnecessary noise, which would be a little bad.

 _As we sit and plan out the Knife, we hear the door to our study open._

Big and Little Sisters should be doing their reading homework, so who…uh…

 _T'Nerem has entered our room in a state of distress. At least, what we think is distress._

…I need an adult? "Can I help you?"

"Sorry, I just need a place to hide for a little bit." She says. Hide from who? "Ma's infected us." Infected with what?

Seriously, "I don't follow." Like, at all.

She takes a seat against the wall. "We're Khajiit, though we don't look it." She looks around nervously. "So every so often we, erm…"

 _BANG-ish. The door to our study is flung open by a T'Mare in her underwear._

 _"Oh, there you are." T'Mare says, picks a failed-at-retreating T'Nerem from the floor (despite her protestations), and hauls her out of the room._

 _It takes around three seconds before our brain catches up._

I…what? What?

…You know what? I'll ask them in the morning.

…

[Next Morning]

…

After breakfast I find the three T-sisters sitting around, looking glum. "The fuck, girls?" T'Ma is accompanying Aria on her training session.

…

[Minor Exposition]

…

So…

In a nutshell…they were horny? I guess?

Being non-humans (strictly speaking), Khajiits basically go into heat every…what, half a year or so? Of the four of them T'Ma is the earliest. The three of them were trying to break into Jake's room and, uh…make use of him.

Jake was of course having none of it and locked them all out, so they made do with each other.

…I like how Erik wasn't even on their radar. I'm reasonably certain that Erik didn't like how he wasn't on their radar.

In any case, their season lasts for a few more days before it wears off, so I might have to install some stronger locks on Jake's room just in case.

…Well, with that out of the way, back to the problem at hand.

…

[Design]

…

In a nutshell, I want to make the assassin's creed hidden blade. The problem is that…well, after talking with Delphine, it seems that hidden weapons tend to be found out rather quickly, especially by a group that's as…used to? Assassinations? As the Aldemari.

Hrm. Well, in any case, we're going to be using Delphine as a test run. If she can't find the weapon within one minute then the weapon is safe.

So as such, bullshit crafting powers go!

The first weapon is a decorative bracer that looks like a family insignia. I took examples from some of the richer families (thank you Farengar) to make something that passably looks like the mark of a relatively aristocratic family. Aria is definitely eye-catching enough to be considered nobility, so this will help immensely.

…Doesn't help that she's not the most well-versed in terms of etiquette, but honestly we just…

Oh wait.

Oh wait shit.

I just realized something.

Um…I'll talk to Delphine later. For now, I'm gonna talk about the knife.

The bracer is about an inch thick and is a little bit thicker on the top, which is normal (need the material for the insignia), but in my case a blade is hidden inside that insignia. It is activated with a spring attached to a small piece of soulstone. When the soulstone gets magic power, it discharges it as a small blast of raw power and forces the blade out into its ready position, where it locks into place.

I sharpened it as much as I could with my Perks, so it did fine against armor…for about a hit. The first prototype snapped in one shiv and the second one honestly did not do much better.

 _Our test subject was a suit of standard steel armor put over a hunk of meat coated in food coloring (our fault)._

1) I wish I had a suit of elven armor to use this on, and 2) after realizing that a custom-forge weapon that lasts for all of a single stab is shit, I reworked the blade for prototype 3.

 _All of this development occurs over a period of two weeks._

"This honestly does not make me feel good." Jake, the wearer of large steel armors, laughs upon seeing my new knife. "Like holy shit." The old knife was half an inch long. The new one is about four. The advancement, of course, is Cheat Bullshit to the extreme…namely, Spidersteel.

 _Which is?_

I figure that, y'know, material is material. If I can take spider silk and weave it with such complexity ("weave") to the point where it is working material, then I should be able to do the same with other material. The difference is just mana cost.

Thus…

…Well, in a nutshell, I made four inches of tape measure and put a point on it. The firing mechanism is still the same, so…y'know, that's nice.

…I felt so damn clever coming up with this idea and only now do I realize that I have basically made a tape measure. Hm.

 _The above sentence is 100% correct with regards to our (the writer's) train of thought._

Oh well. It shivs and it doesn't break, so it's all good. Aria's skill is perfectly able to put this knife where it hurts (someone's vitals) and have it go through.

 _Along with the knife, Delphine also requisitioned decorative short swords._

Blunt and decorative. Apparently also a sign of nobility.

…

…

[Events during those two weeks]

…

…

Delphine actually tells us that we're going to be invading a party.

T'Mare _maybe_ gets Jake's permission to have some fun during the night. She's very happy the next day and would not explain why, while the other T-sisters were sulky. I don't really know (nobody's talking) so this is just my best guess. I should remind everyone that my house is separate from the guild quarters (where they live).

I also get (read: make) simple books for Big and Little Sister, since they're getting the hang of the alphabet.

 _Context for the next point: during the day, Big and Little Sisters spend more of their time outdoors thanks to the improving weather. They've made friends, and frequently (with permission) play with the other children. Sometimes, the two would go together, with Big Sister as the chaperone._

Big Sister showed up one night AND A NEW HAND TOUCHES THE BEACON.

Like seriously, she shows up with this watermelon of a…something-hedron, and looks rightfully worried.

Big Sister's first announcement was "Sir, I think I'm in trouble."

To which my response was "Oh, yeah? In what oh my lord." As I turned around and saw the thing.

And, of course, she tells me about the voice in her head telling her to take the beacon to a "Meridia's Shrine" out somewhere (near Solitude).

I am…very interested to throw the damn thing away, not gonna lie. "Well, leave it there for now." I point to a corner in the house. "If it tells you anything else, let me know." For the record, I put my hand on it and there was no response, so I assume Meridia picks the person and picked _a fucking child_ to be her champion.

This, of course, leads to…

…

[Discussion with Jake About the Beacon]

…

 _The two of us sit one night to mull over this sudden new problem._

Jake's first words are, upon seeing the beacon tucked away in the corner of the room: "Well, shit."

I nod. "Yeah. I'm not too keen on making the trip to Solitude given…well, the fact that it's an escort mission."

"When do you plan to go?" Jake asks next. "I mean, I'll go with."

"I honestly haven't decided." I say. "I don't want to do this at all if possible, but if Meredith decides to fuck with my girl, then…yeah, we'll handle it." Somehow.

"Fun fact." Jake says. "Delphine's infiltration mission coincides with a military buildup in Falkreath."

Well, fuck. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. The Empire's going to try and take Riften through Helgen."

Computing…

…Nope. "That seems like a terrible idea."

In-game, there's a path from Helgen to the Riften side of the world. Here, I imagine that the path would be less snowy…but probably also more treacherous, or else longer. Nevermind that it would be god awful to defend against Stormcloak guerillas…

…in other words, in the event that the Empire successfully takes Helgen with a massive army, they would be on a time limit to use said massive army to take Winterhold before it gets choked out of supplies and mauled.

"Yeah." Jake nods. "Way I see it, if we go with that army and pitch in we'll be able to end this war quickly, because I am _damn_ sure that the Dominion will find some way to fuck up this operation."

That's true. That said, "I know we're fucking broken, but I feel like that's giving us too much credit."

"Not if we take Aria with us." Jake says, then winces. "Assuming she'd play along at all. Girl dances to her own pace."

Hm. "Well, if things get out of hand, I'll just head on over to Solitude." It shouldn't be that much of a problem, provided that I keep my head down or else remove all witnesses.

…

[Second Conversation]

…

Is with Delphine! So, as she (eventually) tell us, the plan is to have Aria pretend to be minor nobility, sneak into the party, then sneak into the back room.

Problem: Aria is _extremely_ attractive and draws eyes everywhere she goes unless she wears Actual Armor™, so if she goes into the party she's pretty much guaranteed to draw attention from everyone forever, making the whole idea of sneaking out rather…optimistic.

Delphine…doesn't believe me. For some reason.

 _She's never been in the same room with Aria for more than five minutes until pretty much recently._

…Fine, for sensible reasons. Then again, Delphine may know more about high elf culture than I do (she probably does) and is thus making her assessment based on that knowledge. Still, Hot is Hot, and I don't think any amount of social training will defeat nature boners.

(That is, pretty people means good genes, which means good offspring, which means let's try and do offspring making things).

…Oh and also I need to make a dress for Aria.

My response: "I what now?"

"A dress." Delphine repeats. "I do recognize that Aria is abnormal, and thus it makes sense that she would have garments that are also abnormal."

Aria seems to agree with the sentiment. "Something that makes it easier to sneak around would be nice." She says. "Preferably without any frills."

…Does she mean figurative or literal frills? Because I'm all about adding literal frills. "It would help if I had a frame of reference for what would count as high class outfits." All of my high-class outfits in Skyrim are tastefully skimpy dresses with BBB compatibility.

 _If you know it, you know it._

"I think we can manage that." Delphine nods. "Though there is still the supposed problem of Aria being too eye-catching."

Hmm… "What if we went with her?" I propose. I know Jake's reputation is solid now, and I'm pretty sure my healing's got some people's attention, too.

Delphine blinks. "That's an idea." She thinks on it for a minute. "If that's the case, then I'd rather that Jake, and only Jake, go with him." She looks to me. "No offense, but his reputation is far brighter than yours."

I feel like I know what that means, but at the same time, "Explain."

"You…" Delphine searches for the most effective way to…I dunno, crush my ego? "Your reputation, if established, will be of someone who's extremely talented with arcane arts." Oh, cool. No ego crushing. "If that were the case, there's every chance you wouldn't get out after sneaking in."

…Huh. "They value mages that badly?"

"In a manner of speaking." Delphine says wryly. "Jake is more traditional when viewed with the lens of a Skyrim champion, and thus would earn maybe a raised eyebrow and nothing more."

Sounds like a plan, then. "Jake?"

Jake shrugs. "I'm cool with it. Worst case scenario I'll cause a ruckus and then mosey on out of there."

Neat. He's basically now guaranteed to cause a ruckus because that's how foreshadowing works.

The party is on the cusp of summer, so about…one month from this point in time.

…

[Next Day]

…

Jake shows up. "Hey, Ash. Got a minute?"

 _It is noon. We are at our forge._

"Kinda." Orden's group brings a little extra work and coin my way (not that I really need it at this point), but I have some downtime. "What's up?"

He scratches his head. "Since we're basically slated to go to Solitude…wanna spar for a bit?"

Hm. Between the Beacon and the Sneaking, I think I see why.

He sees me nodding and nods along. "Yeah. Something like this means you have like a 100% chance of being separated or have to protect your girls without us, so I figured it'd be nice to have you shaped up and ready to go."

"Sounds like a plan." I stand. "We going to your training grounds?" By which I mean the Imperial barracks.

 _So we do._

As I've said, Jake helps train there. I personally don't see any difference in skill between the recruits from day one up to…whichever day it is now, but I suppose he does good work.

The trainees see the two of us coming and, after a brief conversation with Jake, hurriedly make space.

"Aiight." Jake gets…what I'm pretty sure is just a painted tree trunk and throws me a wooden practice sword. "I know you have a lot of magic shenanigans, so give me all you got." He readies his practice two hander. It looks very menacing.

"Right into the deep end, huh?" I crack my neck, palm a soulstone, then grip the hilt.

See, the magic enchanting that the Dude was doing? I can do that shit in my sleep. I've given this some thought and…well, if I'm looking for battle-specific enchants, then I don't necessarily _need_ to put said enchant on the weapon. It drains mana like a motherfucker, but what is the one resource that I have plenty of?

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Ash runs his free left hand along the edge of the practice sword, and a coat of ice forms over the wooden blade, invisible to everyone (including himself).

 _I hope that worked._ He thinks nervously. _I can feel magic flowing out so I'm going to hope that it worked._ "Let's do this."

Jake nods and, with one step, charges in at a breakneck pace.

Ash goes _Hofuck he's fast_ and immediately throws up five layers of oakskin.

Jake hits those layers with his club. Both he and Ash bounce away from each other as the layers of magic armor soak and scatter the force of the hit.

"Mother piss you don't fuck around." Ash grumbles as he regains his step.

Jake's response is a good-natured smirk and another crushing blow aimed at Ash's midriff. Ash dodges that one (letting the oakskins parry the blow a little) and the two enter into melee combat in earnest.

Five blows in, the temperature of the stuffy room begins to drop.

Ten hits, Ash is on the back foot, and everyone in attendance could see the blades of ice forming on his sword.

 _So is there a lagtime when it starts?_ Ash thinks for a moment. He doesn't get his answer because Jake kicks him in the head. Due to the magic armor, it was more surprising than painful, though it still staggers him.

"Ok, time out." Ash steps back and, cutting the theatrics, switches the Frost spell being put into the soulstone with a Shock spell. Instantly, the edge of the blade begins to crackle with audible electricity.

"Fuckin' spellblade." Jake says with a chuckle and then immediately steps in to attack. Despite Ash's magic bonus, he still gets his rear handed to him after ten more strikes or so.

On the eleventh strike, Jake winds up and telegraphs a massively powerful attack.

 _I don't know if you're throwing me a bone or telling me to get the fuck away._ Ash mentally rolls his eyes and creates five layers of angled, overlapping wards. These wards were also coated with oakskin to make them viable against melee damage.

Jake hits the wards, causing sparks to shower the room. His attack is deflected and he, having thrown himself into the attack, loses his balance. Ash, figuring that this was a trick but willing to play along, shoots some Shock into Jake's torso.

Jake's reaction is to block, with a ward, from his suddenly free offhand. The ward buys him the second he needs to regain his balance and throw the rest of his momentum into a followup strike.

Ash, not really having the reaction time to do anything, soaks the hit with his five layers of wards again. As Jake's strike was now angled perfectly against the wards, his strike deals substantially more effective damage, and Ash is sent flying.

"Frick." Ash mutters as he is rudely stopped by one of the building's walls. "Alright, I'm out." He throws up his hands and tosses away the shattered practice sword.

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

It's a wee bit unfair how Jake can mix his two-hand strikes with Aria-like fast hits.

"Yeah, I guess I shouldn't be too worried." Jake laughs. "When did you figure out that magic shit?"

I shrug. "Recently." I've been practicing with it in private and the effect is more pronounced on equipment that I made. The fact that I can reproduce the Dude's enchant effect through what is essentially an hour of practice every night makes me really angry. There's probably more to his enchanting but it still makes me really angry. "How badly were you holding back?"

Jake makes a 'meh' gesture. "Obviously no killshots."

 _Had any magically versed people been on scene, they would have lost their minds at Ash's magic aptitude. Since there aren't any, the watching soldiers merely regard him with thoughts ranging from polite acknowledgement to "look at that magic-using, cheating asshole"._

Neat. Good to know that, at the very least, I can hold my own against someone who's not actively trying to kill me.

The spellblade thing is pretty straightforward: instead of trying to balance the magic that would otherwise go into the weapon with the weapon itself, I just apply it as a cover on the weapon for as long as I can run mana into the soulstone.

It…very likely won't scale as well as using enchants, but this is easier and more flexible. It probably also has efficiency issues depending what weapon is used, but…meh, I can make my sword catch on fire, so it's all good.

…

[Four Days Later]

…

With the impending maybe-disaster that is the infiltration looming, I figured that I needed to get a move on with Jake's new sword.

I currently have a spate of semiactive skills that buff my ability to make equipment, and some active skills that I can use to maybe make something unique. I can: place blessings onto gems, spin mana, and spin materials. I don't remember if I mentioned this before (probably have) but I can shave dragonbone now, and I have some of that as an additional material.

Lately, by virtue of concentrating on magic all the time while smithing, I think it's possible for me to 'weave' that mana directly into a weapon. In other words, since a sword is fundamentally an item of steel, and steel is a component of nature (ish), it therefore has an ambient level of magic within it that is normally too low to harness.

…Think of it like trying to drink water from grass. It's doable, but the energy requirement makes it not worth it unless you have the stomachs for it.

Likewise, enchanting is about artificially inflating the magic value of an item so it can do things as defined within a soulstone. So far, I've been trying to do just that, but…what if I just go 'fuck it' and try to fundamentally weave the magic of the item? Like, juice it as-is without using soulstones at all? I mean, I'll still need a soulstone to tell the sword what kind of magic it can do, but…from a power perspective…

To that end, I've closed the forge today in order to focus exclusively on the Greatsword. I have a stockpile of Replaced Steel, some dragonbone filings, and six small gems (two of: ruby, sapphire, emerald).

The design's width is about a foot across and the blade goes from the top of Jake's head to around his knees. It's a _big_ boy. Would be bigger if, y'know, real life didn't get in the way. Videogames that let blades clip through the ground are so much nicer. Anyways.

 _Though the smith is closed, we can't stop people from coming over and watching, and as we prepare the materials, a gaggle of shop regulars and intrigued soldiers gather to watch._

As long as they don't get in the way I could not care less. Ok.

…

[Morning]

…

This time is basically spent on shaping the material from a stack of ingots into…well, a big glob of steel, really. I'm also using the dragonbone filings to act as kind of a wire mesh on the inside of the blade to help give it shape (and so I can remember what the hell it's supposed to look like).

Comments from the peanut gallery tend to be along the lines of "I can see the Mountain using something like that" or "he's nuts".

Which, y'know, true.

…

[Noon]

…

Jake arrives. I told him to come, the reasoning being that if I'm using magic, I might as well attune the blade to him specifically. I have no idea if this will give any tangible benefits or not, but since I'm already putting all of my eggs in this basket I might as well add my chickens, too.

Ok. Game time.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Ash closes his eyes and concentrate on the mana within the steel. Once his focus is established, he begins to swing a sledgehammer made specifically for the occasion.

"What's all this?" Farengar asks. He had arrived an hour after Ash started and now suddenly saw a mass of people around his forge. "You there." He taps a miner on the shoulder.

"The smith is getting to work." The miner says. "Take a look."

Farengar looks around and sees a small table and, ignoring his rank (he wasn't dressed for it anyway) he climbs onto the table to see Ash…basically beating what he first thought was a large fish with an oversized hammer.

 _The lad's gone mad._ Farengar notes idly.

Ash, completely absorbed in his work, could not care less.

…

Two hours in, and the crowd begins to thin. The blade was indeed beginning to take shape, but most had better things to do than to watch something like this for hours.

Again, Ash didn't care. Within his ability to detect magic power, he could tell the that the blade's power was beginning to even out. Figuring that he had nothing to lose, he starts to weave that power with a reference to the power in Jake's body, trying to match their colors (because he literally has nothing else to go on).

…

Three hours in, and the blade's shape begins to be defined. As expected of an apprentice of Adrianne, the blade was simple and unadorned. It was massive, with edges that looked more suited to crushing than slashing. Briefly, Jake wondered if his skillset (optimized for slashing) would even work with a weapon like this.

…

Four hours in, Some previous members of the peanut gallery come back to see that, yes, Ash was still working on the same blade. Included in said peanut gallery is one Lars Battleborn, drawn to the sound of the hammer after coming over to see if the Sisters could play. Accompanying him is Idolaf, who heard through the grapevine that Ash was spending significant time to make a sword and came over to scout, just in case.

(Which of course means that the Grey-Manes were here, too.)

…

Six hours pass by, and Ash's blade is finally closing to completion. Jake, being in attendance but having nothing better to do (for the past four hours), have taken the time to just sit and teach the Sisters a little bit of math.

Throughout the entire process, Ash had not opened his eyes once, choosing to rely purely on how well he can detect magic to craft the blade. As a result, the sword is…rather ramshackle looking, and not entirely in a menacing way.

…

[Fourteen hours later, 1st Person Camera]

…

It's done! And I'm not even bone dead tired.

So…yeah. The initial crafting took seven hours, refining took another four, and finishing touches needed three more.

The finished product, then, is…basically a large, smoothed steel greatsword. Because I used magic entirely, the…well, things got weird.

Originally, I had planned for it to be a normal (if large) greatsword. However…because of the dragon filings I used to give the sword shape, it now has four lines of…light? That runs along the blade from the tip to the hilt. The edges of the blade are also lined with filings mixed with…uh…soulgems crushed and Replaced into a wire.

The rest of the blade is basically a giant piece of Physics designed to make that wire do entirely unfair things. The three embedded gems have 'anti-missile', 'physical damage down', and 'rapid healing' as wishes placed onto them. Per usual, I have no idea if those wishes had any effect.

 _Now comes the time for Jake to try the weapon._

I present the handle to Jake, and he grabs it with two hands.

"Holy shit this thing's hefty." He grunts and, stepping out away from the forge, gives it a few test swings. It makes a very blunt 'woosh' sound. "This is like, a hundred pounds, easy." He observes, still swinging it around like it weighed ten.

Jake squares his stance and looks over to me. "Ok…now I need to pump magic into it, yeah?"

I nod. "That's the idea."

He nods back, and focuses.

 _Imperceptibly, the dragonbone/soulstone line on the edge of the blade shift colors and create a layer of vibrating energy._

…Nothing happened. Oh well. Let's see here…I have a block of wood. "Take a whack." I set the block of wood on the ground and step _well_ away from it.

Jake, readying himself, makes a huge overhead swing at the block.

 _WOOOOSH_

The sound of the giant weapon is menacing and it what the fuck

 _The sword chews through the wood, leaving behind what remained of a piece of firewood with a faint U marking where the sword was. At least, that's what would have been seen if the sword didn't go through the entire piece of firewood._

Did…did it just erase that wood?

 _Note: since it's now late, nobody was around to see the sword being finished._

"Uh…" Jake looks at the…four…five inch deep indentation on the ground that was definitely not a result of him just swinging the weapon super duper hard. "I…I don't think that's normal."

….Science! "One more." I get a piece of firewood again and this time I layer on top of it a piece of iron.

 _WOOOOOSH_

Jake's swing is slower this time, and I can see, rather clearly, the sword seemingly 'eating' its way through the material. Jake stops his swing before chewing through the entire firewood and I can see a…U shaped indentation. Shouldn't it be more of a 'V' since, y'know, it's a blade?

Hmm. Either way, weapon success! I guess. Let's see when it breaks.

…

[Next Week]

…

Delphine figures we have to start travelling to Solitude to be in time for the party _and_ have time to prepare, so we do.

In the meantime, I've created two more of these…Attuned? Blades? I guess? For myself (first prototype) and Aria (first production model). These are just hacker-type short swords with only one tapered side (so the other is flat). The Filing lines the edge, obviously.

Compared to Jake's piece, the making process took significantly shorter (only two hours per weapon rather than fourteen), and comparatively their effect is…well, weird. It makes sense given that I don't know what I'm doing exactly, but…

Aria's blade, when active, is less significant in terms of damage output but also mysteriously loses half of its weight.

My blade barely eats any of my energy and, while active, only deals special damage while stabbing. I should note that the blade has no tapered point to stab with.

I think somebody failed to tell these swords what they're supposed to do, but I think I'm starting to learn about how to make use of this method, so it's all good.

Apart from these swords, I also made a new dress for Aria and the 'official' Warwolf dress uniform…which just looks a lot like a modern-day parade uniform, kinda, sorta, never saw one up close. It's also lined with a thin layer of spidersteel on the inside for protection. When kitted out, Jake looks like the cross between a military lieutenant and a dude wearing cosplay…and Aria looks like a million dollars, to nobody's surprise.

The away party will be: me, Jake, Aria, and Delphine, along with the Sisters so we can get rid of the BEACON. Apparently Older Sister has been talking to it constantly, which…worries me. A bit. A lot. I hope she'll be ok.

Everyone else will remain at Whiterun, because honestly it would be too strange for everyone to just lea-oh hello old woman

 _As the caravan is being prepared, we're accosted by none other than Fralia Gray-Mane, the giver of the 'Missing in Action' subquest._

Is this the one where I have to go looking for a son?

"I heard that you were planning to go to Solitude." The old lady asks in an undertone. "If you are, then may I make one request?"

"Depends on what it is." I shrug. "Do you need our help to carry something?"

"Of a sort." She nods, and hands over a small sealed envelope. "When you arrive in solitude, please give this to the General of the Imperial forces stationed there." Tears begin to well in her eyes. "He will know what to do with it."

…? No fetch quest? "I'll…do what I can." I nod and take the letter.

…Once she leaves, I immediately break the seal and read the letter because Fuck Yeah Replace.

…Huh.

…Well, that's different.

.

.

.

{ === + === }

Author Notes:

Jake's Greatsword's effects:

Innate: deflect missiles (50% chance), auto-ward, auto-skin, Last Gasp (holder will never bleed out when critically injured), Self-Repair.

When being used by Jake and being used as an enchanted weapon: skip armor (100), all damage dealt bleeds into mana and fatigue damage. Instantly breaks all non-shielded, non-warded gear on contact. Magic gear ignores skip armor effect and are considered to be double strength math-wise.

When being used by Ash and being used as an enchanted weapon: All damage is considered magical (force, like Unrelenting Force), Auto-Parry (Physical) Missiles.

When being used by anyone else and being used as an enchanted weapon: Drains mana and otherwise offers no immediate effect. User may experience the placebo effect of being able to swing around a big honkin' piece of steel and think the weapon is doing something special when it in fact is not.

This is technically Ash's first intentional magic weapon (even though he has no idea about how it works). The reason why it deals special damage is because the soulstone mixed with the dragonbone filings took the aspect of the filings, along with the 'empty' nature of the soulstone.

In other words: Jake considers dragonbone to be the "toughest material in existence" with no equal, and thus the blade has no equal. Ash knows the bone to be only as useful as the magic that goes into it, and therefore the blade deals magic damage. (which means that, yes, the blade's effect will vanish for Jake the moment he hits something that he cannot cut.)

Also, the fact that Jake will cause the blade to skip 100% of armor stacks linearly with his innate ability to skip armor, which means that he will mess up a normal dude real bad and chunk the fuck out of heavy infantry.

Also also, Jake's innate magic means that he can maintain the spell's effect for somewhere around twenty seconds before needing around ten minutes to recharge, while Ash can hold it for five minutes or so.

Ash's gonna figure out how to do 'normal' stuff eventually, I promise.


	16. The Pre-Infiltration Experience

{ === + === }

Aaand we're off!

The trip to Solitude should take about two weeks for a party like ours: four adults, two children, a horse, a cart, and some luggage. We're not going with a cart or a summoned wolf this time for the sake of additional stealth (Aria's bigass wolf is very noticeable).

…

[Day one]

…

Seeing that we're going to be jumping into a zone of possibly a lot of combat, I figure that it would be in my best interest to get the kids a little more battle ready. Or…at least more flee-ready, since that's probably what they'll be doing if shit hits the fan.

To that end, I'm going to take a book from Farengar's advice and get them more used to concentrating mana, since magic seems to be the equalizer that physical strength can't do.

…well, do _easily,_ anyway.

There is also the matter of the letter. It is sealed with wax, but I can Replace shit and make pretty much perfect replicas, so whatevs.

 _We break the seal as little as possible and then read the letter._

…Huh. Ok.

Hm.

So, in a nutshell, Grandlady Gray-Mane is asking for the release of her son (there's no name provided for some reason) in exchange for giving financial support to the Imperials. That was basically the first paragraph, and the letter has about six paragraphs of incredibly dense…I won't say poetic, but definitely obtuse language. I wonder if it's intentional. It's probably intentional. So what have I missed in the letter?

…Though this does alert me to the fact that, in the event we need to write letters to each other, it might be safe to have some kind of encryption to be on the safe side.

Hm.

 _We use Replace to create a near-exact copy of the letter onto a spare piece of paper and reseal the original._

I want to study the letter more, so no point damaging the original more than necessary.

…

[Day 2]

…

There were some mudcrabs on the road. Jake took his new sword out for a spin and there weren't any mudcrabs on the road anymore. In other news, crab for lunch.

In the afternoon, I raised the possibility of encrypting paper communications to the other three. Results were…mixed.

"Most people couldn't just pop open a sealed letter and then reseal it like you could." Delphine notes. "And anyone who doesn't care about a seal has enough backing that they wouldn't be stopped by something like a code."

Aria's position: "I don't think we'll need something like that."

Jake's more on my side. "Could be useful."

Ultimately, Delphine's willing to try out something like a code and suggests the old system of Blades…but…

…I have my doubts based on her description. We'll get a better look at a later date, but I have my doubts.

(It's kind of late in the day by the time we have this discussion.)

…

[Day four]

…

Yesterday was incredibly good weather, so we made better time than most. Today is just a god awful mess.

Early in the day it started to rain, and then the rain started to pour. I have no problems being outside in the rain, but I'd rather not get my girls sick (and travelling through the rain saps stamina like nobody's business anyway), so we've found a place to hunker down, with Aria and Delphine putting up rain covers very, very quickly. No surprises there, really.

Since we have more free time today (most of the time is just travelling, y'know) I train the girls to focus the magic energies while Delphine takes the time to remember and draw up the Blade's encryption. She gives us a…a…

…seriously?

 _We share a look with Jake._

"This is the code of the Blades." Delphine says. "I believe the Aldemari has cracked this code. I wonder if the two of you can do the same?"

…so…why? "And you want us to use this because…"

Delphine shrugs. "Because any code can be cracked, so the only thing that matters is how long."

I mean…ok, but…

 _About ten minutes later._

"Yeah, this is pretty straightforward." Jake says with the solved message. "Has the Blades really been using this?"

The two ladies look at him in utter shock, and he goes "what?"

"You broke the code? Already?" Delphine says in shock. "That's entirely far too fast!"

"Blame him." Jake points to me with a cheeky grin.

I…uh… "I only taught him what they look like, blame the time he spends on this kinda stuff." I shrug.

 _Disclaimer: since the message he had to work with was short, Jake was simply rather lucky with his guesses._

The Blade's encryption is basically just a substitution cipher, where two characters change place. The cipher's probably not that bad, but if the Blades have been using it since forever ago then it's probably not very well hidden. Also the fact that Jake guessed the key after being in Delphine's presence for a few days was probably not a good sign.

"Well, shit." Delphine huffs and folds her arms. "You guys got any better ideas?" She asks while staring at me.

Um…

 _Playfair?_

Playfair. "Which characters are the least used in the Skyrim alphabet?" I ask.

"Q and J, I think. Plus that other one." Jake says.

Ok, so we'll have O and Q, I and J, and…Y and 'that other one'. They look similar enough anyway.

 _We draw a 5x5 grid on a piece of paper._

"Keyword's Gundam." I say out loud. Jake nods, the only one to do so, understandably.

 _We pu in the first two rows (going from left to right) and then fill in the rest of the blanks with the unused letters in alphabetical sequence._

With the grid done, I then…write down the 'solved' paragraph so I don't forget and then encrypt it with the 5x5. It takes me a little since I'm out of practice, but soon enough I hand the finished product over to Jake for him to crack. Since I was also dumb enough to say the keyword out loud I make things harder by separating each character with a filler one in between (so lik and so on so forth).

"Did I ever mention how much I fucking hate playfair?" Jake says conversationally and starts trying.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

Delphine, after watching Jake work for a few minutes, could not help but marvel at the keen edge of the young man's mind.

 _If he was alive at the heyday of the Blades, he would've easily been the spymaster for the entire organization._ She thinks. _How different would things have been._

She didn't give a whole lot of attention to Ash's cipher, for the simple reason that she wasn't trained in this kind of stuff and therefore did not see it as anything other than yet another encryption measure, of which she had seen more than her fair share of creative failures.

Good on Jake to humor him, really.

 _As in: a cipher that can't be easily solved by an outside party is good. A cipher that can't be solved at all is useless, and as far as Delphine's concerned what Jake's working on tilts rather heavily to the latter._

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

By the time the rain lets up (about thirty minutes later), Jake still has not cracked the code, though he's close. The additional letters are throwing him off.

"No surprises there." Jake shrugs and crumples the paper. "Playfair's godawful." He tosses it away and then incinerates it for good measure.

I grin. "Cool. We're using it, yeah?"

"When we need it, I guess." Jake says.

The two of us then take around five minutes to teach it to Delphine and Aria. Aria picks it up easily enough, but Delphine seems to be a little…against the idea? I dunno? She seems uncharacteristically quiet.

Either way, we're setting the current keyword to be 'Blades' since it's easy to remember…and, more pragmatically, stopped them from asking me what a Gundam was. Well, stopped them from asking me more than is needed, anyway. Somehow the idea of a "Giant self-moving humanlike thing" was the final straw that made them stop.

…

[Day 5]

…

We're probably getting close to a town (or at least a checkpoint), since the amount of travelers on the road has increased substantially. I took the time to buy some leather and breezy, surprisingly well-made silk(ish) cloth.

Banding up is also good for business, since I have some of my smithing/tailoring tools and can help repair stuff for a small fee.

It's also good for defense, I guess. Some bandits tried to hit our impromptu convoy (two carts, five walkers, for a total of 18 people). There were eight of them when they charged down the hill, six immediately after Jake made contact, and one after about twenty seconds of terrified screaming.

Their shit wasn't even good enough to loot, either. Pain in the ass, really.

…

[End of Week 1]

…

We've arrived at a town overlooking a river. I don't remember if such a town existed in the in-game map. The town is…maybe six hundred people large and effectively controls a bridge that crosses said river. This side of the town (the side we're currently on) is basically a gentle slope, probably floodplains, while the other side has only a slight distance between the town borders and the…one…two…five…five routes leading from the town up through a cliffside. One of the routes is remarkably bigger than the others and carries carts that we can see from here. It's not a very big place.

"Welcome to Crosshaven." Delphine says, probably half-reading from the nameplate hung on a pole. "Once we cross this bridge, we'll be in what is considered to be the northern part of Skyrim."

"Cool." Jake stretches. "Should we stop here for the night?" He stares at the glut of carts clogging the bridge. "Doesn't look like we'll get to cross today."

Why? "Is there something going on?" I start to look around.

"I'll go ask." Jake jumps from the cart and the people who travelled with us immediately give him a path, allowing him to move up ahead to…two Legionaries in heavy armor? Looks like it, anyway. He talks with them (too much noise to tell) and then comes back.

"Some dipshits broke their wagons." Jake says. "They're fighting about it."

…God that's stupid. "Then let's spend the day here." It's about the afternoon anyway. "I think we could use a real bed for a night."

"You say that like the beds here are better than what you bring." Delphine laughs. "But I agree with a night without needing watch."

So we spend the afternoon here, with Jake being recognized as The Mountain and pretty much instantly gaining a fan club. Not My Problem™.

 _Or, at least, not our problem for an hour or so._

A young noblewoman of…some…maybe a noblewoman. Shows up to our wagon. Non-sequitur: our wagon, after spending some time through light drizzles, have gained a top cover resembling something skin to one of those Oregon Trail wagons, but not as top-heavy (sitting room plus an extra half foot only). I would say that the wagon stands out, but since we traveled in a convoy towards this town and the drizzling happened during the convoying, our convoy has nothing but covered wagons, so it's not…well, not _as_ attention-grabbing. When it's not raining it gives a bit of privacy so that's nice.

Anyways. "Can I help you?" I ask.

"I hear of an exceptionally talented healer within the midst of the covered wagons." She says. "Would you, perchance, know who it may be?"

…word travels fast, huh? "I might. Why?"

"There is a minor trifle from which I have need to be absolved." The woman says and _wow_ that speech pattern. She rolls back a sleeve and reveals one massive fuckin' gash.

…That said, it's just a gash. "Yeah? Let me see." She does as told and I scoot over.

…Yeah, it's just a gash, albeit a tad deep. Magic sense shows some nerve damage and some abnormally healed tissue, but it's nothing eye-poppingly serious. MAGIC!

 _We repair the arm over a period of five minutes or so._

"Should be fine now." I say after those five minutes are done. "Move your hand a little." She does, giving a rather surprised 'oh!' upon doing so. "How does it feel?"

"I'm impressed." The lady says. "It seems I've stumbled upon a treasure." She bows politely despite the low ceiling of the wagon and hands over a small pouch of gold. "Thank you immensely for your peerless skill."

I shrug. "No problem. Where are you headed?" On far inspection, she's wearing a traveling cloak over her clothing. On close inspection, the travel cloak and clothing are of a rather fine quality, so she must have some money…so, a noble in disguise, then.

"My visit into Skyrim has been recent." The lady says. "Nevertheless, Skyrim offers a remarkably educational experience…even considering its conflagrations."

…and her speech pattern sounds similar to how Delphine tried to get Aria to talk, to better match nobility. Keyword being 'tried'.

"The depths of Markarth has always captured my attention; its jewelers are second to none."

…?

So…a young noblewoman new to Skyrim is visiting Markarth for its jewelry.

Is it just me, or does this sound like a red flag? Either way.

 _We engage the young lady in conversation for another two minutes or so while we stealthily spin a silver ring into shape around a small ruby._

Towards the end of our conversation, I hand over the ring with a cordial "Well, if you find yourself in the shop of a Markarth jeweler of some acclaim, could I trouble to get this thing appraised for me?"

"Of course." She takes and gives it a cursory examination before putting it on her finger. "Is this a rare artifact? Its craftsmanship seems rather unusual. Did you make it?"

"I'm a blacksmith, not a jeweler." I say with a slight bow. "My forays into the realms of finery has not yielded appreciable results."

She giggles. "So you can repair not only the soul, but also the body? I'm impressed." She winks at me. "Are you looking for patronage? I'm sure my family will not begrudge Skyrim talent."

"The offer is appreciated, but I have much to do here."

She didn't seem offended. "A shame."

A few more exchanges, and she's on her way. The ruby on the bracelet is given the Wish "Protect the Wearer from all physical damage" and the bracelet itself is has a strand of mana woven into it with a soulstone and a -skin spell. Let's see how it works.

 _We do not notice Delphine's appraising eye on us throughout the entire conversation._

…

[Next Day]

…

It wasn't as if we absolutely *needed* to stay over for the night—we ultimately never got a room at the inn—but the fact that there wasn't a need to post a guard was definitely welcome. With the road clear, we get on our way early in the morning after breakfast.

Based on what I've seen, the road for today is basically going to be one long-ass slope upwards. Fun.

…

[End of the Two Weeks]

…

It is getting late, and the gates of Solitude are in the distance. We are now effectively one wagon (now topless) among a train of thirty along with plenty of foot traffic. Solitude is a city built on top of a cliff with its palace on a…cliff-ier cliff? It basically is an earthquake disaster waiting to happen.

The city of Solitude is (of course) much larger than in-game, and currently on the road with us are…wagon is five, walker is one…around two hundred people on the road going into the city. Some are Imperial soldiers, a few are captains, and most are villagers or traders carrying goods into the city. One of them has a giant bushel of…grapes? Grape-like things? They're a bit sour.

 _We noticed little sister eyeing them and bought a bunch._

Beneath us in the waterways leading up to the city are dozens of small boats and two large ones. The large ships are very much "high fantasy medieval" ships with huge-ass square sails. They look like Galleons but…y'know, smaller by quite a few sizes. Currently moored, the markings on those ships probably make them warships of some kind. The small ones are more traditional…Viking-esque? They're the…uh…leaf-shaped ships that make up most of the whole Viking Longship shtick, though obviously many are not large enough to carry more than a few people and some cloth-covered goods in the middle.

Solitude sits at the entrance of a massive river, and I can see ships departing and entering the natural harbor. Given the amount of fish being unloaded in the docks below I assume fish makes up a large part of the city's diet. I guess it's more an estuary than a river, but eh. On the other side of the river is marshlands, though we can see houses down there, so I guess people do live outside the walls, too. There's a dock on the far side of the river/estuary, but they're smaller and obviously not built to handle heavier traffic.

 _The docks are divided into three parts, only one of which is visible to us right now: The civilian river docks are the parts that we are currently passing over and make up the docks that you would see in game until you go north of the city. The civilian trader docks are north of the city and takes in large ships from around the cape northward. The military docks are directly underneath the city and sheltered by the strange, almost Lion King Pride Rock kind of structure of the city and cliffside area._

Based on what Delphine says, Solitude is not a warm water port, though since it's the cusp of summer this point doesn't matter too much. In-game, the port didn't seem too useful since if you travelled in any direction for thirty seconds there'd be large chunks of ice in the water, but here I would say…the ice is probably twenty, thirty miles away from the water.

 _If we could see that far, we would see ships sailing around the cape north of the city exclusively from the west, many of which bear Aldemari markings. Solitude's trade economy relies heavily upon trade steered towards it._

Given the position, normally Solitude should trade with whatever is west of it, Dawnstar, and Winterhold, though obviously two of the three points are a bit of a no-go at the moment.

Hm. I open my ears and listen. I'm curious as to why the Imperial army hasn't decided to launch a naval invasion against Winterhold, since both are port cities.

 _The few minutes of listening doesn't tell us much._

Though it does sound like the local territory is having some trouble. Apparently there are walking bears attacking people, and ghosts rise from the ground at night chanting something. I…have some doubts to the story, not gonna lie, but it does give some good hints if you don't take them literally.

The walking bears are likely the dudes trying to Free the Reach™, the…I don't remember their names.

 _Foresworn, Forsworn, one of those two spellings._

They're a random-ish encounter on this side of the province in game, and here I imagine they're a little more organized. The chanting ghosts…that's probably the wolf queen side quest, though by the sound of things troops have already been dispatched to the villages closest to the chanting. In-game, the dragonborn arrives and more or less solves the problem before those troops can be sent, so we obviously missed the bus here.

Well, either way, we need to take care of some business and get settled in, get prepared.

Delphine's contact has a house in the poorer districts of the city which will act as a safehouse for us when things start to go pear-shaped. Oh, right.

Solitude in-game is a city on a cliff. If you were approaching the city gate like we were, to your immediate right would be the esturiver, and to your left would be the mountain, and all you get as flat terrain is the road. Makes sense: save memory and all that.

Here, there is comparatively more land to build on. The path leading up to Solitude has an incline like the game, but it's not nearly as steep. There is also more flat space, and the whole terrain is still defensive, but not prohibitively so. There are actually two gates into Solitude: the lower 'common' gate that everybody uses, and a higher 'military' gate that's a bit harder to get to. There's a literal cliff between the two paths, and the military road is maybe twenty feet higher. Between the military road and the more mountainous border is an Imperial Warcamp, with plenty of tents and semi-permanent structures that likely act as quarters for the lower troops. Between the common road and the water is another camp: it's smaller and populated almost entirely by Khajiit, so I assume this is the 'home base' of the wandering traders.

Solitude's internals are smushed together given the relative lack of open space to build (hence the overflow to the other side of the esturiver). The castle area is the highest at maybe five hundred meters from the water, and the gate area is the lowest at maybe ten meters. Its arrangement is kind of…long. Let's say that…from the main gate, the city is arranged in a four-by-two grid (four rows of two columns). Let's say that the left column is 1-4, the right is 5-8, with 4 and 8 being the closest to the gates.

2 and 3 are the poor sections, 3, 4 and 8 make up the garrison area (taken by the Imperials), 5 is the palace, 1 is the palace, 5 is rich people, and 6 and 7 make up almost everyone else. Again, this is just a rough layout and areas obviously don't layout so nicely. The part outside the city walls are not accounted for since they're, y'know, outside.

Anyways, the dude has a house in…3, which has supplies, gear, and all the equipment necessary for a small strike force. We won't be staying there since, in order for Aria to appear to be a noble invited into the function, she would need to stay at an Imperial-supported Inn for the next two weeks and basically mingle with the various smaller parties that will be thrown around because Nobles I Guess.

So while they're doing that, we'll be off taking care of the beacon.

This, of course, means that we're either 1) taking care of the beacon without Jake, Aria, and Delphine's support or 2) we're waiting until after the raid to do this (while being hunted by the Aldemari). Or else 3) we turn around and chuck the Beacon into the water but I can't imagine that working out in our favor given, y'know, magic (and honestly if that were an option we would've done it before we got here).

 _Or 4) we pack up and go home, but that's basically option 2 but without the upside of finishing the quest._

So…yeah. I'm going to take three days or so to get the girls kitted out, and then we'll go. I don't like this—I mean I _really, desperately don't like this_ —but it is the safest option.

Also.

"Your girls need names." Delphine says as we take to our rooms. "Given the fact that we've arrived together and that Aria needs to maintain her minor royalty cover, your girls need names."

…why, because peasant children don't have names?

 _Reason: our standard of hygiene and the quality of our attire means that we're basically considered to be the crustiest of the upper crust. Or else the upperist of the upper crust._

"Well, alright then." I've been chewing on this for a while and I'm shit at names, so let's see… "girls."

Big and Little Sisters come up to me and they're still the _cutest things ever_. The biggest problem here is that if their names are too Anime then it'll be hard for them to stay unnoticed…though I guess we're already kinda exposed as it is.

Let's see here…Fuck it, we're doing this. "For now, big sister will be…Atra. Little sister will be Alma." I have no reason to use these names beyond I'm basically stuck on one letter. They nod in return.

"Your naming sense is terrible." Delphine notes. "But the Blades are magnanimous in their inability to judge stupidity." She grins.

We've learned through the past two weeks that Delphine is very much so the snarky grand…uh…archetype. "Your blindness is appreciated." I reply. "Now, girls, given that we'll be headed into some danger soon, make sure you're prepared, ok?" They nod. Ok.

I'm scared. Not gonna lie. Really scared. If it were by myself I would have no issues diving in and out. I would be…reasonably ok with not making it out at all. But…

…yeah, I have _charges_ now. Can't just let them die in a place like this.

…

[Three Days Pass]

…

Given that Aria and Jake need to constantly attend parties to build their social credit, Delphine is therefore responsible for teaching the girls how to fight in what little free time she has. I also get some lessons because I really, _really_ need it. Three days isn't really a lot, and military experience basically dictates that the girls get spears.

Anyways, since the spear requires the least amount of experience to learn to use ("pointy end go that way") they'll get one each. Since Aria taught them a little swordplay and spears are inherently a bad idea in enclosed spaces, they'll also get a light sword (a dagger) apiece, along with armor. Given that they're both children, the available weight that I have to work with is miniscule.

To that end…

Both girls get a four-foot-long spear with a haft of Reinforced and Replaced wood (the lightest I could find). The tip is steel that I've…played around a bit. I've embedded a gem on the fixing end of each spearhead that has "increases strike force" as their wish. The pointy end of the spear is also a bit more blunt than normal, given that we're very likely fighting undead. Sharp stabby objects are not as useful as blunt force trauma. In a nutshell, the girls are expected to play keep-away with their spears when in melee combat as their last-ditch effort.

Defense-wise, I've made them both a set of light spun metal shirts with embedded soulstones with +skin enchants placed into them. I'm making use of That Guy's enchant method (where you just throw magic at the problem) but since I'm going to be nearby it works out fine.

The same spun metal is also sewn into their pants, but at this point I still had a helmet to worry about, so the leg weight had to be minimized. Their shoes are also unarmored. I…I can put their legs together if things go poorly, but…yeah, hopefully we won't come to that.

Their helmet is…a stripped-down leather cap that covers basically the top of their head and the sides plus an enchanted circlet (+skin). The sides are reinforced with strips of metal with a layer of crushed soulstones on the inside (+skin). At certain angles it looks like they have a weirdly leathery handkerchief wrapped over their head.

Our battleplan will be as thus: the girls will stay close while I go Emperor Palpatine on anything that tries to get remotely within touch radius.

Oh, incidentally: over the past few weeks, Jake's gained 178 points, I got 166. Jake's so powerful at this point that he's basically keeping points in reserve just to, y'know, break shit harder, so he's got like 400 points at this point.

He gets the following skills to 100: overwhelm, 1hand mastery, 2hand mastery, Missile awareness.

He also gets and immediately fully upgrades 'one-handed charging strike' for better immediate stabbiness, I guess, and the last 11 points into poison resistance.

He also has like a billion greater perk points to spend, but the ones that are the most important are the ones that are apparently repeatable: "Natural Flight", which "Extends Flying Time", and "Combat Presence", which "Instills Fear". He took 10 ranks of combat presence and 4 of natural flight.

Now, instill fear is pretty straightforward (probably), and I'm not sure what 10 ranks to do, but natural flight has us both confused, because after about thirty seconds of testing we can be very sure that Jake does not in fact fly. Maybe it's a dud, I dunno, but so far the perk tree has not given us any duds.

In my case, I max out my good friend and buddy Replacement, my new buddy Shock Mastery, and the rest goes into Fine Eye (better results for small objects).

For greaters, I take Greatest Materialist (because I can), three ranks of this 'Ambient Moonlight' thing, less/great Dress Tailor, and four ranks of this repeatable, quite possibly broken, Mana canister.

(Dress tailor because I want to make pretty pretty dresses for my girls. Duh.)

I call mana canister 'possibly broken' because, after some experimenting, it seems that I am able to store ONE FULL BAR OF MANA per perk level. I have a lot of mana. I also have skills that spike damage in exchange for additional mana spent. I think you can see where I'm going with this.

I will note that these 'canisters' have a natural bleed rate: It takes me around ten minutes of focus to actually fill one canister, and each one lasts for around six hours before they're totally empty. I assume this will be more efficient after I get some skill with using it, but since it's already giving me like a 400% damage increase…

Oh also Ambient moonlight decrease my spell cost (by 6% after all three perks). Respectable workhorse perk that I have no problems against.

…

Other preparations for our excursion include: having Aria teach me how to Summon Giant Dire Wolf, since we'd need some transportation that's not a horse-drawn wagon. The spell is easy enough—being just a derivative of summon familiar—so it only took me a few hours to learn it after coughing up money to buy the book involved.

And with that, we're off!

Ish.

There's simply too much foot traffic going in and out of the city for us to just summon a giant wolf and, y'know, go do things. The good thing with the foot traffic is that there's no checks going into or out of the city. Through listening in on conversations, it seems that the reason for their lax security is to give the sense of security while nobles plan to schmooze in the upcoming party. Seems to be a bigger deal than I had previously thought, this party thing.

Well, either way…we're off.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

"What is he?"

Jake looks up from his stupidly crowded itinerary. "I'm sorry?"

"That friend of yours." Delphine repeats. "What is he?"

"Uh…" Jake had many answers, none of which would have been very useful.

"That armor he made for those two girls." Delphine says. "What was it made of?"

"Steel?" Jake says slowly. "What, was there something wrong with it?"

"Hardly." Delphine toys with a small piece of that steel meant for repairs. "Is it possible to have a suit requisitioned for all of us before we…continue?"

"I thought you weren't into heavy armor." Jake observes.

"Something like this is hardly 'heavy'." Delphine says, tossing the piece of armor into the air. It falls with the speed of padded cloth. "If the blades had armor like this, we would've been utterly untouchable. Swords, arrows, magic…none of it would have mattered. They would've never hit us and any hit would have been totally useless."

Jake nods politely. He felt as if she was overreacting.

Delphine shakes her head. "Your friend. What is he?"

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

So…I _may_ have overprepared for this.

As it turns out, the shrine to Meridia is a…if not necessarily government promoted site, then at least an accepted one. The shrine is built on top of a…semi-plateau overlooking the woods. There exists a massive statue (of Meridia, probably), a temple-like structure, and the doors to a (probably) catacomb structure that…is likely where we need to go in-game.

There are also: a preacher in front of the statue talking about Meridia's boons to humanity, about a dozen of the anti-Daedra people standing guard, a few dozen worshippers and visitors, some sitting in open-air pews, others offering small tokens to an offerings box in front of the statue, and, last but not least, a mishmash of Imperial and independent soldier folk.

This is, like, infinitely more people than there would be in game, and as a result certain precautions need to be taken.

"Atra." I get her attention. "There's likely going to be attention given to the fact that you're showing up with the beacon. If anyone asks, you didn't hear any voices in your head that told you to come here."

"Ok." She nods. "Why?"

Easy. "Because there's probably at least one guy over there who believes in prophecies, and at least one guy who believes they're more special than others. The less unwanted attention to draw to yourself, the better."

She nods again, and we walk up to the shrine, away from the preacher.

"Hello there." I greet one of the well armored anti-Daedra people. Disclaimer: I'm believing that they're anti-Daedra by the sheer virtue that they're all wearing the same robey things and don't look anything like normal mercenaries. "What is this place?"

The Imperial man raises an eyebrow at me. "Never heard of Meridia before? This is her shrine."

I shrug. "Heard of her, sure, but I've never seen an image. Would this belong to the shrine?" I gesture to Atra. Up until this point the beacon's inside a basket she's been wearing like a backpack, complete with cloth covering the entire thing. She puts down the basket and pull the cloth covering aside a little to reveal the beacon to him and him only.

The man uncrosses his arms. "That's…where did you find this?" He leans in and asks Atra. She shrinks a little into my leg.

"Around our neighborhood." She says quietly. "I was playing with my friends when one of them saw this weird glowing light. Nobody else wanted it so I took it."

 _Atra is semi-lying: she was the only one who saw the glowing light and, after she was finished playing, listened to the voice in her head and doubled back to get it._

"Is that so?" The man straightens up. "I'll take the entire basket if you don't mind." He says. "Put it back on and follow me." He says. He leads the three of us to the catacomb and then around its right, where a series of strangely permanent-looking tents have been set up slightly shielded from sight. We go inside of them.

"Alright." The man says and flashes a thing around his neck that looks like a horn. "In case this sign is unfamiliar to you, we are the Vigilants of Stendarr." He growls, adjusting his clothes so the head of a mace is visible. "We hunt daedra worshippers."

Hm. "Must be busy this time of the year." I jerk my head to where the rest of the people are.

He chuckles. It is not a very happy laugh. "Meridia has her uses." He says. "Since you seem to be a learned man, I'll cut to the chase: leave the beacon here and say nothing else."

Fuckin' done. Though… "I got no problems with that, though I'm curious as to why. I heard you guys were real hardliners when it came with working with Daedra."

The man thinks it over for a bit. "Meridia…for better or worse, inspires those who wish to destroy the undead." He says slowly. "We vigilants exist for the purposes of protecting humanity, and Meridia inspires us to do it ourselves. If she gave out power to destroy undead then we would have a problem, but…"

Apparently a sword doesn't count? I guess you have to swing it yourself, so…sure.

"But she's helping, right?" Alma asks.

"That she is." The man nods. "However, giving power in the name of helping others has long since been used as a tool of corruption…that is, Daedra like to lie about what they're trying to do." I do like how he rephrased for her convenience. "She's nice, so we get to be nice back."

"Oh, ok." Alma nods.

The man refocuses back to me. "Anyways, I'd like for the beacon to be returned to our hands so we may return it to the shrine. As you are likely aware, the beacon holds great significance to those who believe in Meridia's power, and having it restored through supernatural means only add to that strength."

…? Sounds oddly shady. "That's fine with me." Better stay away from it.

"Does Meridia make people champions?" Atra asks. "I…er, I read something about it." Hm.

"So we've heard." The man nods. One of his buddies bring out a sword. "The weapon's name is the Dawnbreaker, though this is just a showpiece."

…The Dawnbreaker has a really neat design. This piece of steel in front of me look like house building material reject. What?

 _The weapon is basically exactly that: a piece of steel for show-and-tell, with only the barest of attention paid to resemble the actual weapon._

"This looks…bad." Atra says, giving the weapon a poke.

The man looks over her with a practiced eye. "Compared to your gear, certainly." He stares at me. "You're…of quite some means, then? To be able to afford such gear for these girls."

"He made them!" Alma says before I could say anything and I kind of wish she didn't. "He's the best blacksmith in Whiterun!"

"Is he?" The man replies with the tone of appeasing a small child. "I'm impressed." I don't think he believes her. "Well then, sir, I believe our job here is done." He nods politely. "Good day to you."

"U-um!" Atra stops them again. "A-about that sword…" She glances at the metal. "I've…I've been around a blacksmith's forge long enough to tell that this…um…this is just scrap." Her eyes dart towards me. I don't think she knows what a 'showpiece' is.

…Oh well, in for a penny… "Since you said this was a showpiece, is there a real one lying around somewhere?"

The man's eye twitches. "I don't appreciate your tone, citizen."

 _We may be a wee bit condescending._

…In for a pound. "Look, I know you're trying to pull some public relations shenanigans, and I appreciate that. But…" I approach him to whisper. "Between you and me? Atra apparently _really_ wants a souvenir so just let us go down there so we can stop her from keeping your time?" I think the real sword is in the catacomb somewhere, so I'm volunteering to maybe get killed.

I wish I had the foresight to second-guess my instincts.

"Hm." The man sighs. "How about this?" He draws his mace. "Here at the shrine, we have a simple trial: prove your worth against a Vigilant and earn your spot as a Champion." He grins. "twenty gold."

Oh, that's actually stupid smart. I can imagine that Meridia is in no way happy about this, but stupid smart all the same.

"Now…Atra, was it?" He says. "Show me that you deserve the sword."

…I came here expecting supernatural necromancy and instead discovered religious commercialism. I'm not sure what to make of that.

Atra draws her spear and visibly begins to shake.

 _We all move to an outside ring set specifically for the occasion, apparently._

"Ladies and gentlemen!" One of the Vigilants call out. "We have yet another challenger to enter the ranks of Meridia's champions!" She gives Atra a small pat on the back, and Atra bows deeply, blushing furiously the entire way. "I present…the little Atra!"

Everyone has basically stopped what they were doing to watch, and thus everyone claps and cheers her bravery.

 _Little kids trying to become a Champion of Light (as the Vigilants call it) is DEFINITELY not a new thing. Now, technically, these Vigilants are technically operating outside the bounds of the Vigilants' teachings, but since they help give the Vigilants a good name, their operations (and self-profit) is mostly ignored._

"Now then," The man grins good-naturedly at the girl (though not without a twinge of annoyance). "Show me what you can do."

Atra, now practically having a panic attack, looks over to me.

DAD TIME. I give her a hug. "I'm here for you."

 _Cheers and clapping on the hug, nobody heard words being exchanged._

Now slightly calmer, she levels her quivering spear, then takes a deep breath like Jake would do, and charges forward.

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

 _Oh?_ The man blinks in surprise. The girl was obviously green, but her step-in was quite powerful. Unfortunately, the distance between the two negated any additional energy she had in her charge, and he sidesteps her attack with the barest of margins (to help her morale). With the girl off-balance, he raises his mace and gives her a gentle tap on the back.

Atra's wheel-around was also superbly fast, but the utter lack of aim meant it sailed high over his head and caused her to go off balance again.

 _She's got good teachers._ The man notes. _But apparently not enough drilling on the basics._ He waits until she gets back into position again before making a very exaggerated attempt at a charge.

Atra, being eleven, loses her nerve and scurries away from his charge. Playing the part of the big strong bad guy, the man maintains his charge direction like a rhino and makes some exaggerated steps to stop himself, drawing a few laughs in the process.

"What's wrong, girl?" He taunts/eggs her on. "Is that all you've got?"

Atra, to his surprise, firmly shakes her head. She levels her spear again, takes another calming breath, and charges in.

They go for about five more exchanges before Atra collapses from exhaustion. She's tried a grand total of fifteen attacks and none of them hit.

 _A little girl like that with that kind of armor, going on for fifteen blows, half of them being charging ones._ The man tallies with a wide grin on his face. _You're telling me there's talent like this in the peasantry?_ He sheathes his mace and gives the sprawling Atra a deep bow to roaring applause. "You've proven your worth, young lady! We would be glad to induct you into the honorable ranks of the Meridian Champions!"

Everyone roars their approval again. The ones who visit every other week know full well that the 'Meridian Champions' moniker was just there to please the kids like a participation trophy.

Atra, gasping for air, lets herself be raised to a sitting position by Alma, takes a waterskin from Ash, and does her best to drain it.

The man gives Ash an appraising eye. _Still…given her equipment and the quality of her training, however sporadic…no way this blacksmith is her family. A servant, maybe?_

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

Well, all's well that ends well, I suppose. Atra gets an amulet of Stendarr for her troubles (Alma gets one too because why not) and we're allowed to go into the catacombs, into what is basically a gift shop, to pick up a sword for Atra. And thus we're being escorted by Atra's ex-opponent.

"Was there some kind of problem here?" I ask. I have no reason to ask beyond game-knowledge: in game, this was a dungeon crawl involving weird undead shit. Obviously no such problems are here, since the catacombs are brightly lit, carefully partitioned with wood planks (for rooms), and house something around forty people.

"To some extent." The man says. "There was a necromancer making hell in here around two years ago. He's the reason why're here, actually." Huh. I guess that's what happens when the two different parts of the quest can be completed by multiple people. "You're pretty sharp to be able to see something like that." He says.

I wave it off. "Sometimes I get lucky." I do sense a little bit of strange magic from around us, but without game knowledge I would not have guessed.

Anyways, the dungeon layout is drastically different from how it looks in game (as in, no dungeon run). The layout of the catacombs is basically a straight run from the door to the temple.

 _Within the main chamber (where the 'true' shrine to Meridia is being kept) there exists one hefty-looking metal door. Heavily barred and guarded at all times, this is the entrance to the rest of the dungeon proper. We do not go anywhere near that deep._

The…uh… 'gift shop', as I'm calling it, is basically a partitioned section of the catacomb hallway, where barrels upon barrels of swords are kept.

"Usually this is kept from the eyes of children." The man says with a wink. "But I think you're mature enough to know that a champion makes the sword, not the other way around."

 _Disclaimer: he says that to all the kids._

"I…see…" Atra says, sounding a bit disheartened.

"Pick one that you like." The man laughs. "You too, Alma."

"Yay!" Alma doesn't mind getting free rewards. She picks a sword at random. It looks like a really, _really_ half-hearted attempt at something that resembles a sword, to say nothing of the added requirement of needing to look like a unique sword. It's like if someone tried to sell like a Pikachu plushie by painting a mouse-type cat toy yellow and then going 'eh, close enough'.

Atra takes her time, and eventually picks out something that looks _eerily_ like the real Dawnbreaker…well, the real Dawnbreaker after it's been broken a few times, maybe. Given that Meridia is actually in her head I won't be surprised if that is actually the real thing.

The man doesn't seem to care, and just nods with approval.

…

After a little bit more chatting (some congratulations being piled on top of Atra for her performance), we party up with a group going back to Solitude and arrive a little before midnight. The girls are tired from the trip despite the summoned wolf that they rode on to get home, and we (me and Jake) tuck 'em in posthaste.

Real proud of Atra, not gonna lie.

…

With that out of the way…the next issue on the list. The Letter.

I gave the letter to the Imperial office in charge of communications some day after our trip to the shrine, and around a day later I received something akin to a royal summon to the garrison.

Which is fun-ish. Nothing serious: they wanted to know where the letter came from and I told them everything I should know about it, which is that "some old lady gave it to me when she heard we were headed to Solitude".

"And you did not know who it was?" My Interrogator (A Lieutenant or something) asks suspiciously.

"It was an old woman who knew how to write, maybe, and the letter was sealed." I shrug. "I figure it's somebody important but I honestly could not care."

He scowls. "You have no idea what's inside the letter?"

I frown. "Should I?"

"I'm asking the questions here." The black-haired Lieutenant (Breton?) snaps. "The contents of this letter can amount to an act of bribery. Do you have any knowledge of that?"

That much I know. "I thought that's normal for nobles."

The Lieutenant smiles slightly. "Aye, true. It also speaks of a potential attack on Solitude if its demands aren't met."

Huh. "From Whiterun? Seems kinda far." I should take into account the fact that he may be bullshitting just to see how much my body language can tell him.

 _Armed with this knowledge, we begin to guard our movements._

…

[3rd Person Camera]

…

After some thirty minutes of questioning, Ash was allowed to go with no repercussions.

"What was that all about?" The Imperial Captain of the Breton Lieutenant asks.

"That man delivered the letter from the Grey-Manes." The Lieutenant replies after a snappy salute. "I thought he might know something about the context of the letter."

The Captain's eyebrow goes up. "And? What have you discovered?"

"Little, considering how much of the letter we have yet to decipher." The Lieutenant admits. "However, we do know that the man who delivered it has some training in counterespionage and has likely read the contents of the letter, even though he may not have fully understood it."

"Oh?" The Captain's eyebrow goes even higher up. "How do you reckon?"

"He stiffened when we asked him about specific parts of the letter, and his guard never dropped." The Lieutenant says. "He only started to be guarded after we asked him about the parts of the letter that could be easily read. I tried to bait him with false information and he saw through it, which means he at least has some knowledge of the truth."

"So he's close to Grey-Manes, right?" The Captain asks. "You said the letter showed no signs of tampering."

The Lieutenant nods. "Correct. Unless he can perfectly recreate their seal, he's probably close enough to the Grey-Manes to be of some service."

The Captain gets a gleam in his eye. "Interesting. That Aldemari function is in a few days, is it not? If there's the chance of a third faction getting involved, then it may be of some help to us. Advise our infiltration party to be a little rowdier than usual when things get going."

…

[1st Person Camera]

…

So…that's that. I have no specific reason to go and kill a fortress full of people just to rescue some guy I don't know about, so as far as my personal involvement goes, this is it.

In the meantime, I need to make more dresses for Aria…and spare outfits for Jake.

See, Delphine's plan is as thus: on the days leading up to the Big Elf Party, there are plenty of smaller parties being held by the nobility of Solitude to…basically take advantage of the nobles arriving in the city and do some networking. Aristocracy by default tend to have small but thorough social circles, so it's a situation where 'everyone knows someone' and if Aria and Jake show up to the BEP and _nobody_ knows them, then awkward questions will be asked.

As such, the two of them are therefore tasked to just go to parties and have fun, which…y'know, sounds like it would be a great idea if Aria didn't look like she would rather be doing anything else.

A secondary reason for going party-hopping is because Aria's cover story is that she is, in effect, a visiting noble of minor repute. It is…rather common, for visiting nobles to basically play suck-up. Aria's (and to a lesser extent Jake) will therefore be 1) being rather proactive when it comes to talking to people and 2) be _very_ proactive when it comes to getting… 'lost', in the houses of these practice parties.

Either way Aria is surprisingly not ok with the whole 'talking to people thing'. I mean, I figured the Dragonborn was shit at small talk, but…

…

[3rd Person Camera]

[Subtitle: "Aria and Jake's First Party"]

…

The two stands before a set of mahogany doors in front of a small house (for the neighborhood).

"Oh gods I want to not to do this." Aria grouses. "I don't see why I can't just murder my way through the building when the time comes."

Jake was rather used to her bloodthirstiness. "Because that would be wrong, for some reason." He gives her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "You'll definitely be the center of attention, so it won't be that bad."

Aria narrows her eyes. "I will shank you."

Jake chuckles. "Good, just keep your spirits up." He pulls on the large brass ring and knocks it against the door. Immediately the door opens in response.

"Do you have an invitation?" The aged butler (Orc) asks politely, but rather loftily.

"Of course." Aria extends it out with a winning smile. She wasn't good at winning smiles.

The butler looks over the invitation, gives Aria a 'what do you think you're trying to do' look, gives Jake a 'I think you should've gone a bit deeper than looks' look, and then gives the invitation one 'this seems legit' look. "Welcome to the function, Lord and Lady Fairwind."

Aria _barely_ succeeded in maintaining an eyeroll-less poker face. Jake vaguely regrets letting Delphine pick the noble last name. Their cover story is somewhere along the lines of 'we're cousins'.

The two enter the brightly-lit main hall. Jake takes a moment to marvel at the chandeliers and ornate torch racks and wonder slightly at the integrity of the Solitude's building safety code. Aria notes that the chandelier was exceptionally bright and deduces that magelight must be in use somehow.

Their entrance draws a few looks, and some of those looks develop into longer stares.

Ash had, taking in the idea that Aria was a 'lesser noble looking to fit in', decided be a bit fucking extravagant. Paying attention to the weather (and having basically no knowledge in designing high function dresses), Ash basically made a near-glowing sundress and added frills and a nice-looking sash. The materials were Replaced to be as light as possible, giving her a bit of a 'floaty' appearance.

In severe contrast, Jake was basically just in the closest approximation to a tuxedo that Ash was able to make in roughly forty minutes. Ash did not allocate his time in a very efficient manner.

Regardless, Aria is immediately swamped by a half-dozen young nobles immediately attracted by her immense looks.

 _I hate EVERYTHING about this._ Aria thinks while her acting gets progressively better through practice. _This is why I kill things._

Jake, wanting to intervene but finding no good way to do so, simply goes around and tries to emulate some of the older patrons. Due to his terrible acting (and very non-noble vocabulary) interactions were scant, and he found no time to slink away and practice the desired goal of the infiltration due to the fact that he basically never fell out of sight. He makes notes on how the others behave, and tallies how a man of his station (mostly a warrior) and age (quite young for a noble) should act.

The party ultimately ends with neither of them being able to do what they were sent for.

"So?" Delphine asks with a wide grin upon Aria and Jake's return to the inn.

"I really, _really_ think we should just go in and kill everyone." Aria says.

"I echo that sentiment. Fuck infiltration missions." Jake says.

Delphine laughs for a solid minute before collecting herself. "Good! But you don't get to make enemies out of two separate nations in order to lie about your own shortcomings. Learn to blend in, children, and it pays handsomely in the future."

"Why can't Ash go in my place and I go around killing everyone?" Aria asks again.

"Because he's even worse than the two of you." Delphine says again. "When was the last time you saw him approach someone when it's not for business?"

"I've known him for years and I know for a fact he can survive an entire day without speaking an entire word." Jake says.

Aria sees no problem with it. "Yeah? I do that too. I would _love_ to be doing that too."

"Give it up." Delphine says cheerily. "The sooner you learn to expertly fend off the boys looking at only your body, the easier you'll see the ones looking deeper."

"Better if they don't look at all." Aria huffs. "Should've brought Mell with us."

A slight, imperceptible change crept into Delphine's smile and vanished without a trace. "So you can shift your duty onto her? You're quite a bit less dedicated than I thought."

Aria growls. "I'll figure it out. Just give me a few days."

…

The two continue to participate in parties and practice how to best orient their behavior, and soon enough Aria was being ignored at the parties by those who matter. She had learned that a woman of her background—a good-looking minor noble looking to dig into the Solitude aristocracy—was expected to be just a little too gaudy, a little too loud, and a little too affectionate for attention. In a nutshell, her job was to be the desperate beginner that the other nobles thought she would be.

Of course, this did mean that occasionally a minor noble's son would take her acting seriously and try his luck at getting underneath her skirt, which worked in her favor as, around five minutes later, the noble would be half-naked and knocked the fuck out as Aria practiced snooping around the building without a backwards glance.

Jake…once it became clear who he was, he lost all ability to disappear from the party. As 'The Mountain' and (apparently) actual nobility, all partygoers focused their attention upon him, and he found himself either swamped by young men trying to be (or be better than) him, and young women who hoped to pull him from (or be pulled into) his house. Older patrons simply keep him in their sights, largely to protect the young men or young women from being pulled away from their circles for various reasons.

Ergo, he switched roles to be a bit more bombastic and friendly, to draw all eyes to make Aria's job easier.

…

[1st Person Camera, Day of the Party]

…

By the time of the party, the two of them are prepared enough that they know what they want to do. I've also had the time to tweak their final outfits and my GOD did they need outfits.

I kind of expected that it would take more investment for a girl to be accepted into society but I didn't think that applied to Jake, too. Having to make essentially two sets of outfits every day is a _pain in the neck._

Aria's final dress is pretty similar to her starting one, except it's a bit heavier with a…half-sized coat thingy? It's big and light and fluffy (thank you cheating) and is cut to approximately her elbows. The dress itself is more of a formal dress with more rigidity than the sundress ('cuz it's armored). It meshes well with her bracers (plus hidden knife) and the skirt part can be detached if she needs to bolt.

Jake's outfit goes from a tux to a proper military uniform, complete with some medals and decorations as needed. We both decided that it would make more sense for the 'Mountain' to be a little over-decorated: it fits the narrative of a rapidly promoted noble-in-hiding leading his own band of misfits.

I'm also going. Not to the party itself; I'll be outside in the servant waiting quarters as their attendant. The fact that I made her dresses is pretty much a known secret at this point (I buy materials, I live in the same inn, and Aria's dresses are made of such materials) so I'm expecting a little trouble, but since I get to be a poor peasant I also get to be a bit better armed. The waiting quarters are outside the mansion for security purposes, which is doubly nice. I have Jake's greatsword and if things start to get rowdy I am to chuck it over the wall and…hope for the best, honestly. Planning for the alternative is really not our thing.

The girls are staying at the inn until our return, or until Delphine's attendant fetches them and whisks them away from incoming hostiles. Either-or. Best case scenario we get finished and escape with no loose ends whatsoever but _hoo boy_ that's probably not an option.

…

[Night of the Party]

…

So…erm…

 _We are but one wagon among a throng of wagons headed up to the mansion._

The mansion is outside the city but _why are there so many people going?!_

"This is different." Jake mutters. "Delphine never gave us a headcount so I'd figured it wouldn't be too different than the parties we've gone to."

I interpret his statement as 'the game definitely did not have this many people going', to which I wholeheartedly agree.

The three of us get the butterflies (maybe it's just me) and upon our arrival, I can see where we're going to have problems. Or, like, this is gonna go poorly.

The mansion's external layout is pretty similar to how it is in-game: there's a large structure connected to an iron fence surrounding the entire compound (plus gate) and then a smaller structure that acts as the actual office building.

The difference: In game, it's perma-snow because memory limits. Here, it's not perma-snow. Because it's not snow and it's warm out, the courtyard has torches, magelights, and tables, and food. And, most importantly, non-guard people.

In game the entire area past the party was a minor dungeon crawl. Not so here. The courtyard of the mansion is teeming with people wandering around and having a good time.

"Oh, fuck." Jake breathes upon seeing what I'm seeing.

"The entire mansion is the party area." Aria sighs. "And I'll bet anything that the office building back there has only one entrance and is heavily guarded." The only windows on the back building are facing the courtyard and are on the second story.

"Looks guarded now." I observe as I see gleams of the Elven armor among some of the earlier arrivals. "Fucking hell, you two have your work cut out for you."

"If we fail you'll have to bail us out, so don't talk like you're somehow free from this." Jake says. The wagon (containing just the three of us along with a gift for the Aldemari) gets stopped, checked, and passed through the initial checkpoint some distance from the mansion.

The wagon then gets pulled aside, Jake and Aria get off along with the gift, and the three of us part ways.

…can't help but feel like we're in over our heads here.

…But Jake's played assassin's creed before, so he should be fine, right?

.

.

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{ === + === }

Author Notes:

The best way to make infiltration difficult is just to put more eyes in the play area.

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{ === + === }

[Side Story, 3rd Person Camera]

Margret was in a good mood. As an Imperial spy, her job required her to move around quite a bit, and she had just been reassigned from Morrowind into Skyrim after achieving preciously little and taking a rather nasty wound on her arm.

Her new mission involved investigating the controlling family of Markarth, the so-called 'Silver-Bloods'. While en-route to the city, she decided to stay for a few days at the town of Crosshaven to see the extent of the Silver-Bloods's reach.

 _Note: some of the below information she learns later._

While Crosshaven is not the only location where the river boundary between western Skyrim and the rest of the region can be made, it is by far the safest. Other passes, especially the ones closer to Markarth, are either guarded by the Markarth patrols (likely compromised), can't handle wagons, or else has so much bad terrain around them that an ambush is basically a given.

To that end, Crosshaven, with its hefty Imperial garrison, is the safest pass…and as far as she could see, without notable traces of her target's henchmen.

Either way, on the day of her leaving, she noticed a pack of strange-looking wagons entering the town. After poking around a bit, she learned about a supposed 'master healer' from Whiterun. She's heard the rumors about how, over the past winter, healers from Whiterun have gained a significant edge over even healers from the Imperial Mage Guild, so she figured that it would be worth her time to take a look.

To her eternal surprise, she succeeded on the first try after just asking around a little. Even better, the injury she had taken was completely healed, she didn't have to pay, AND she got a free ring for it!

 _As expected of a student of the great Daniel Wildspring._ She had thought while travelling to Markarth. She's not great at remembering names.

Now, having spent a day getting used to moving around Markarth's unusual topography, she finally decided to do what she was supposed to do. The ring given to her was a usefully little 'in' to the metalwork trade of the city and of the family that controls it.

To that end, she decides to visit the largest market yard of Markarth, and see if the little gem can get her into some doors.

 _Time wise, this is roughly in the middle of The Main Party's party preparations._

One jewelry seller grabs her attention within the bustling square. "Hello there, little lady. You look like a woman of fine tastes." He says with a charming smile.

Margret was one of the older agents, but nothing that dressing carefully can't mask. "You look like you have your share of fine stuff." She says, looking over the tray of rings, circlets, and necklaces while keeping her ring in prominent view.

The seller's practiced eye analyzed the ring per her expectations. "Well, I have a few things that I think would strike your fancy." He moves his display boxes expertly to orient the jewelry that best matches her ring into her line of sight.

 _A practiced peddler._ Margret notes. "I like the look of this." She picks up a simply-decorated silver locket. "I think it'll make a great gift for my sister."

"Oh?" The seller was a little bit disappointed that his little skewing didn't help him much. "Perhaps something that's a little more fitting for the family of a lady of your standing?" He picks out a finer locket.

"Well, I think that would be more for me." Margret replies with a playful wink, earning a laugh from the seller. "By the way." She shows her ring. "A friend of mine gave this to me. It's the first item of fine jewelry he's made, and would like to have a professional's opinion on his workmanship."

"Well, you must think very highly of him to wear a first ring like this." The seller says, taking her hand and staring intently at the ring. "I heard that first jewels tend to cut like knives…" He frowns. "His first?"

Margret caught the doubt in his eyes. "So he says." She nods. "Would you like a closer look?" He nods, and she takes off the ring for him to examine closer.

 _A first-time jeweler is able to make something like this?_ The seller analyzes the ring through the use of a small magnifying glass. _What is this incredibly complex pattern?_

The pattern, incidentally, is solely due to Replace being difficult to control for something as minute as making jewelry (Ash not looking also didn't help things). As such, it has a 'natural' kind of look that, by sheer luck, had a level of sharpness which tweaked the look from a natural disaster to that of the works by a genius.

The seller in particular seems to be taken by the ring. "Your friend has exceptional talent." His mind had already deluded itself into seeing the random patterns on the rings as something akin to a nature motif of roaring rivers and wandering forests. "The gem, though…" Ash had used a rather substandard Ruby for the ring and had also cut it with Replace, and the luck that graced the ring did not bleed into the gem. "…he should leave the cutting process to someone else." He hands the ring back and leans in conspiratorially. "My shop's not big enough, but I'm sure you can get at least five figures for this ring if you play your cards right." Besides, he wasn't about to become a Silver-Blood target by hawking something like that.

Margret took his advice in stride. "I'll be sure to pass the good news." She says and buys both lockets shown to her. As she puts the better one around her neck, she hears a strange shuffling behind her.

Suddenly, an arm reaches around her mouth, and her combat training kicks in just enough to stop it. Her other training—the one to be undercover—kicks in soon after with the argument that she would compromise her cover if she went any further.

Which is why, even as her brain screams alarms at her, she did not move to defend herself as a knife gently pushes into her back. Even while in danger she could not help but roll her eyes. _What an amateur assassin. Can't even keep his knives sharp._ She plays her role and collapses, though.

"The Reach belong to the Forsworn!" The man shouts and starts slashing at other nearby walkers. The fact that he was drawing blood rather liberally is a sign that his knife was not at all blunt, making Margret a bit suspicious.

Not long after the man began attacking people at random, Markarth guards show up and beat the man senseless with hefty blunt instruments before taking him away. He dies due to blunt force trauma several hours later; no healers for the imprisoned.

"You alright, lady?" The seller asks as Margret picks herself up from the ground. "Do you need a healer?"

"I'm fine, I was lucky." Margret says with the perfect amount of quiver in her voice. "What was that?" She had been briefed on the issues surrounding Markarth but did not remember much of it.

"There are no Forsworn in the city!" The guard closest to them yells. "Disperse!" Not much dispersion happens.

"It may be better to be a bit scarce for today." The seller says, packing up his cart. "Set up shop in a different center, maybe."

Margret nods absentmindedly, her hand going up to her face as she ponders on how to make use of this Forsworn information. As she does so, the seller notices that the ruby on the ring is missing.

"Lady, it looks like that man's done some damage to your ring: it fell out." He says helpfully. "If you don't mind, I can introduce you to a jeweler who can give that ring the shine it deserves."

Margret figures this wouldn't hurt. "That would be very helpful, thank you."

.

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{ === + === }


End file.
